Of Longstanding Rivalries and Secret Alliances
by gryffindora
Summary: AU/Next Generation. *She raised a hand threateningly, ready to slap him if he dared kiss her again, but Potter put his lips up against her ear. "Sure thing, Malfoy," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. "But ask yourself this: can you stay away from me?"* Harry's badass Slytherin son gets dared to seduce the most responsible witch in school-Hermione's daughter.
1. The Potter Twins

**Hi all! This is a rewrite of my old fic, Dangerous Liaisons...trying to work out the kinks and improve the writing. I hope you all enjoy it! xo**

**Full Summary:**

AU Next Generation...Imagine that Harry never defeated Voldemort as a 17-year-old, but only later, after marriage, after kids, and after the murder of his wife. Imagine that his twins grew up starved for love and turned to Slytherin values to make their way through Hogwarts. Imagine that Harry's popular, badass son gets dared to seduce the most responsible, rational witch in the school...Hermione's Gryffindor daughter.

_****Aurora stared coldly at him, taking in his forced half-smirk, which he evidently thought would make her swoon. "Stay the hell away from me, Potter," she warned him in a low, deadly voice, her gaze murderous._

_This didn't have the intended effect, as Potter merely came close to her once more. She raised a hand threateningly, ready to slap him if he dared kiss her again, but Potter put his lips up against her ear. "Sure thing, Malfoy," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. "But ask yourself this: can you stay away from me?"****_

**Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognize is mine!**

Chapter One: The Potter Twins

* * *

The sun was shining, people were rushing to and fro around her, and the magnificent Hogwarts Express was ready to take up passengers, but 16-year-old Aurora Malfoy stood in her place, taking in the beautiful, familiar sight with a large grin.

"Come on, Rora, love," her mother, Minister of Magic Hermione Malfoy, said, coming up beside her. "Let's get your trunk on board."

"Can't we just have one of these special agents take it on for me?" Aurora joked, jerking a shoulder in the direction of one of the navy-cloaked wizards on the platform that were specially trained Aurors hired to protect the Minister of Magic every time she left the house.

"Now, what fun would that be?" Draco Malfoy told his daughter with a laugh. "Come on now—it's character building."

Aurora rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. "I thought there was supposed to be some perk to being the Minister of Magic's daughter," she laughed, blowing a stray strand of pale blonde hair out of her face and tugging slightly at the immovable trunk on her trolley. The damned thing was heavier than she was.

"And so there is," Hermione said, kissing the top of her head. "You get first chance at an internship at the Ministry next summer," she teased, well aware that Aurora and politics did not mix well.

"Fantastic," Aurora said wryly. "How 'bout you just levitate it for me then, yeah?" she went on, turning to her father with a jokey grin.

But Draco didn't have the chance to answer, because that was when the hardly unexpected onslaught came.

"Minister Malfoy!" about three different voices called out, and Aurora and her parents turned around to see several reporters headed their way, some with photographers trailing behind them.

The guards went into action immediately, and in a second four Aurors were holding back the shouting press so the Malfoys could have their space.

"Never a moment of peace," Hermione said dryly.

"Minister, have you come to a decision about the situation with Spain?" a journalist called out.

"What are your views on the way the Italian election turned out?" another yelled.

A woman with a purple pixie cut pushed her way to the front, and, holding up a camera, took a shot of Aurora. "What do you call the look you're sporting today, Aurora?" she asked loudly.

Aurora sighed in annoyance. She recognized the woman—she was Genevieve Elmond, an annoying writer for _Teen Witch_, and she'd been snapping pictures of Aurora all summer, trying to catch her in something horribly fashionable so she could make the magazine as a new teen style icon. Naturally, Aurora had resisted, not exactly craving more media attention, and also rather hesitant to have someone with violently violet hair tell her whether she looked good or not.

Aurora turned away from her, rolling her gray eyes but soon another familiar face appeared and called out to her: Fiorella Jameson, an overly perky, freckled brunette from _Fashionable Witch_. "What would you say to an interview, Aurora?" she asked excitedly.

"Not interested," one of the Aurors grunted, pushing the reporters away.

"Come now," Fiorella tried again. "You must tell us the straight story about those rumors we've been hearing about you and the Head of the Treasury's son!"

"Seeing as you started that rumor," Aurora said blandly over the din, "I'm sure you can create an interesting enough follow-up report without my help."

"Now, _really_, Aurora," Fiorella persisted, looking like she was about to lose her temper. She tried a very charming smile. "Treasurer Gerard Bertrand's son is one of the fittest boys at Hogwarts," she said, winking. "Tell me he hasn't made a move on such an exquisite young lady as yourself."

Aurora raised her brows mildly.

"What does your current boyfriend, Marcus Weasley, think about this?" Fiorella demanded before Aurora could think about responding. "Surely he isn't ready to break up with the most famous 16-year-old in Britain?"

"He's devastated," Aurora affirmed, unable to help herself. "But I've tried to explain that's what happens when you decide on an open relationship."

Fiorella's jaw dropped. This was the most she'd gotten out of Aurora all summer. She quickly began scribbling the lie down. The next moment, as if he had heard the exchange, the familiar voice of her best friend rang out.

"Ror!"

Aurora's head snapped up and she halted her trolley, twisting around and finally catching a glimpse of Marcus Weasley as he sped forward with his own trolley. He slid to a stop in front of her.

"Marcus!" Aurora screeched, throwing her arms around his neck and forgetting what any such display of affection would do to confirm the rumors that she was dating her oldest friend.

"Draco, Hermione!" Ron Weasley boomed, coming up behind Marcus with his wife, Lavender; their daughter, however, seemed to have already rushed off to meet friends. "How are you?" he said as he approached.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing up to give her dear friend a hug. "It's been so long! What have you been up to, old man?"

As Ron rolled his eyes, Hermione greeted his wife with a hug as well. "You two should really come for dinner some time soon," she admonished.

"Can the Minister of Magic really fit us in her busy schedule?" teased Lavender, and she winked at Draco, who stood wearing his signature smirk.

"Being Minister of Magic doesn't mean she's busy," Draco put in, his smirk widening. "It just means we have to put up with an armed escort every time we leave the house."

"And remind me why I put up with _you_?" Hermione asked dryly, but her eyes were lit up with amusement.

Lavender suppressed a smile and turned to face her son. "Now you work hard at school, Marcus, do you understand me? Sixth-year is important. I don't want to hear you slacked off after O.W.L.s," she said sternly.

"You still have N.E.W.T.s next year," Ron added.

"Don't worry, Uncle Ron," Aurora cut in with a sly grin, "I'll keep him in line."

"We're counting on you, Ror," Ron said with an exaggerated look of pain.

"Right, Dad," Marcus said, wrinkling his nose slightly.

Aurora turned to her parents. "Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad," she said, squeezing each of them into a tight hug.

"Bye, darling," Draco said fondly, giving his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Love you."

"We'll miss you!" Hermione added planting her lips on Aurora's cheek.

After Marcus said his goodbyes as well, and his parents had left to search for his sister, the pair helped one another heave their trunks onto the train and piled them into an empty compartment, plopping themselves down on the seats once they were done. Aurora sighed heavily and leaned herself against Marcus' shoulder. While she was feeling the slightest bit homesick now, she knew it would pass. She was excited for sixth year. This was the year she'd turn it around, especially now that she had more time with O.W.L.s out of the way. She was planning on doing her best to minimize that alienating know-it-all effect she seemed to have on people and wasn't going to let those damned Slytherins get to her. And she was going to snap out of the funk she'd been in since last year's almost-romance had fizzled out over the summer.

"You should have come with me to Diagon Alley yesterday," Aurora told Marcus, a contented smile settling on her face at having been reunited with her best friend, despite the decidedly awful topic of conversation. "Saw the Potters and I could have used some backup."

"Fuckers," Marcus replied with a sneer. "What did they say?"

Aurora shrugged. "All the usual bullshit. I don't know how every summer I somehow manage to forget how awful they are. I actually tried to smile a hello at them. Which obviously came around to bite me in the ass."

She frowned as she remembered the encounter. The Potters were responsible for every rotten memory she had from Hogwarts, and mostly because they'd seemed to have declared a private vendetta with her ever since they'd began as first-years. Back then, Aurora had actually thought they could all be friends, given how frequently her mother talked about going to school with their father, but that had clearly been a hugely incorrect assumption. And worst of all, the Potters seemed to go out of their way to screw with her, which, much as she hated to admit it, actually upset her a lot.

But she was drawn from her thoughts with the compartment door sliding open and their other best friend entering.

"Hey, Rors, Marcus," Sam Thomas said, grinning at them as he kicked his trunk in.

Aurora jumped up to hug her friend. "Been weeks!" she exclaimed, punching Sam lightly in the arm. "What's up with that, Thomas?"

"Missed you too, Ror," Sam said, rolling his eyes affectionately as he kissed her cheek in a brotherly manner. "What up, cuz? Lot's happened in three days," he said to Marcus, holding out his hand for a high-five. Sam in fact _was_ Marcus's cousin; his parents were Marcus's Aunt Ginny and Uncle Dean.

Marcus slapped his palm, smirking back widely. "I assume you mean Clem?"

Sam crashed on the bench across from Aurora and Marcus. "Yep," he said with a wide grin, waggling his brows suggestively. "Totally sealed the deal last night."

Marcus let out a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. "You're a lucky bastard."

Sam grinned back.

Aurora opened her mouth to contribute to the conversation, thinking to herself how hilariously incongruous it was that her best friend had easily landed Clemence Bertrand as a girlfriend whereas she, Aurora, had an ice cube's chance in hell at doing what the press claimed she'd already done—score Clem's older brother—but before Aurora could speak, she was cut off by the arrival of two more friends.

"Hola, hotties!"

Marcus's younger sister Emma came crashing in, her conspicuous mane of wavy orange hair obscuring her face as she dragged in her massive trunk. Still bent over, she raised her head, shaking the hair out of her face. "Miss me?"

Marcus rolled his eyes affectionately while Sam hugged his cousin in greeting. Behind her, Aurora's roommate Zoey Patil-Creevey was trying to force her way into the crowded compartment.

"Where the hell you been, Emmy?" Marcus called to his sister, whom he'd apparently lost somewhere between the platform and the train.

Emma grinned, shrugging as if she truly had no idea where she'd gotten off to. Meanwhile, Aurora rose to greet the girls.

"Zo!" she exclaimed, launching herself at Zoey and hugging the girl tightly. Aurora had always been closer to boys, but Emma and Zoey were rare exceptions, and two of her favorite people. "How was India?"

Zoey squeezed her back. "Girl, I have so many souvenirs for you," she said, pulling back. "Got you a sari and everything, it's going to be gorg with that insane hair of yours."

Aurora didn't get a chance to respond though, because the next moment, she heard a most unwelcome voice.

"Malfoy! Just the wench I was hoping to avoid…"

She jerked her head around to see a group of people standing in the doorway. But before she could say anything, Marcus had stood up, his wand out. "Call her that again, and I swear you'll pay," he said in a deadly whisper.

"I'm frightened, Weasley, really," James Potter sneered, then turned back toward Aurora.

She raised a brow coolly at the raven-haired pain in her ass. Most popular, sought-after guy in the school or not, she couldn't fucking stand him.

"Potter," she said, cocking her head and smiling pleasantly at him.

"Why, Malfoy," Potter said with feigned surprise. "Such affection in your tone I have never heard. You must have really missed me since yesterday, eh?"

Aurora leaned forward, grinning slightly. "You've no idea, Potter," she replied sweetly. "Care to go fuck yourself now?"

"Why I'd forgotten what a snotty little _brat_…"

"What's it matter, James?" Potter's twin sister, Stella Potter interrupted, slipping her arm through her brother's. "Come on, let's go; I could care less about hanging 'round this sad lot," she said dismissively, flipping her straight black hair over her shoulder and turning to stare directly at Aurora, raising a brow tauntingly. Stella Potter had the same piercing emerald eyes as her brother, but despite the intensity of their stares, Aurora just smirked slyly back.

Since their first year at Hogwarts, the Potters—asshole twins of Harry Potter and his late wife Cho Chang—seemed to have made it their mission to annoy her as much as possible. She'd learned that no matter how annoying they were or how much their insults hurt, it was always best to put on a confident face. And any additional sneering and condescension she could muster was always a bonus. This tended to bother Stella Potter in particular, and it had almost become a game for Aurora. Could she get Ice Princess Potter's panties in a twist?

Predictably (and gratifyingly), Stella Potter sneered nastily in response to Aurora's knowing smirk before she continued. "They're not worth our time, James. They're not worth anyone's time…" Potter spoke to her brother, but her eyes, bright and challenging, never left Aurora.

"You've got quite a mouth on you, Potter," Emma interjected rather blandly to the girl, with an air somewhat resembling that of a person who'd just looked up from a particularly engrossing novel. Stella Potter's gaze shifted over to Emma angrily.

Sam sneered in agreement. "She's a bit braver with her bodyguards, huh?"

The Slytherin girl's cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed rapidly. Aurora watched carefully, waiting to see if Potter would go all whiny helpless bitch on them, thus inviting her brother to unleash some of his overly-protective bullshit wrath on the Gryffindors, but instead, another person spoke up.

"I don't recall anyone addressing _you_, Thomas," the cool voice of Aiden Black drawled lazily, and Aurora saw her jackass cousin step forward from behind the Potter twins. Black took a place beside Stella, putting a hand on her shoulder protectively. Ah, of course he'd come to her rescue. Inseparable from birth, the Potters and Black were more like siblings than friends, and the rumor flying around school was that Black and Stella Potter were madly in love with one another. Between the Potters' shitty home life and Black's chip on his shoulder from the infamy still surrounding his father and family name long after Sirius Black was cleared of murder charges, it hadn't come as a surprise when the Sorting Hat had immediately placed the three in Slytherin. From there, they'd become Hogwarts royalty, and split their time between making life hell for their enemies and sleeping with everyone else.

"I don't recall anyone inviting you in," Sam snapped now, his freckled mocha complexion turning a shade darker in anger.

Black raised a brow at him doubtfully, his smirk wide, like he knew some large, tantalizing secret about Sam. "Clever, Thomas," he said, grinning so widely now that it was all Aurora could do to keep from slapping him. "I might just have to run back to my compartment to sob my eyes dry in private."

Aurora rolled her eyes impatiently, stepped forward to look at up at him from her shorter frame, and, chin raised defiantly, snapped, "Why don't you all just leave us the hell alone? The view is bad enough, but this stench is just ridiculous."

A snort of laughter drew Aurora's attention back to Potter. "At least one of you's got wit," he sneered mockingly, as if wit were the least desirable trait he could think of. "See you lot at the castle. No doubt you'll be the ones helping up any Hufflepuffs we've already run into," Potter went on, shooting Aurora his usual smug smirk before leading the way out of the compartment, his twin, Black, and the others following.

* * *

James Potter laughed loudly at the story his best friend, Aiden Black, had just related.

"Damn it, Black," he managed to say between laughs. "You're so shitting me. That's complete crap!" James sat in his compartment, his twin beside him and Aiden across from them.

"Nope," Aiden said with a smirk. "I swear that's what Laurel told me. Avery didn't even know the guy was so old until the next morning. I guess she made them head to Paris a few days early just so he couldn't track her down again."

"And you believe _Laurel_?" James snickered, raising his brows.

Aiden grinned. "She may be vapid, but she doesn't lie," he pointed out, folding his arms in front of him and leaning back in his seat. "Not to me, at least," he added smugly.

Stella snorted slightly from beside James.

"What?" Aiden demanded, facing her.

"Nothing," Stella said, not raising her eyes from her book.

A look of annoyance passed over Aiden's features, but a moment later he was smirking again. "So, you ended it with that witch from Whitney, right?" he asked James.

"Yep. Let her down gently, you know. Told her I don't really date girls from all-witch academies."

"Really gently, you know," Stella said seriously to Aiden.

James shot a look at his twin. When she grinned innocently up at him, he rolled his eyes, albeit fondly, and turned back to Aiden, who seemed to be trying not to laugh.

"So guess that means you're back on the market, hm?" Aiden said, still trying to stifle his smile.

"Mate, I'm always on the market," James said with a wink and a laugh. "Although the goods are getting a tad predictable," he went on, frowning a little.

Stella snorted. "Maybe you should give it a rest then," she advised sniffily. "Or set your sights on someone with some standards."

Aiden chuckled at her. "There you are then, James. You want some excitement, start chasing after pious Hufflepuffs. And there's always Saint Malfoy."

James couldn't help but burst out in laughter. "_Malfoy_?" he repeated incredulously. "Fuck, Black. Thomas and Weasley wouldn't let me within a ten-foot radius of their precious baby."

Aiden cocked a roguish brow at him. "Yet you haven't said no," he mused. "Guess she's not entirely repulsive, is she?"

Stella looked at them from over her book in interest. "You're going after _Malfoy_?" she asked, looking skeptically at James.

James shook his head quickly. "That skinny brat? Honestly, Stell, how desperate do you think I am?"

Stella smiled smugly. "Guess she _is_ fully repulsive," she told Aiden cheekily. "Not surprising, though. After all, her father's the most arrogant ass in England," she snickered.

"Oh, you're just jealous, Stells," Aiden smirked, clearly trying to push her buttons. "Top of the class and not so wholly unattractive."

Stella sneered at him, clearly annoyed. "You're blind," she snapped. "And stupid," she added childishly.

James had been watching the two, rather amused. "Oh come now, Malfoy's not worth fighting over," he sniggered. "Not when there are real Gryffindor knockouts vaguely worthy of pursuit…"

Aiden looked frozen for a moment before echoing a hearty chuckle. "Oh, certainly. Take Patil-Creevey. That sexy tawny skin just gets me."

"Oh, stop it, both of you," Stella huffed, catching on. "Luckily you'll be too preoccupied with _Zabini_." And she gave a false shudder for effect. "Horrifying."

Aiden, looking rather normal once more, snorted lightly. "Mmm, she and Laur will probably jump us the second they find us," he predicted, winking at James. Camila Zabini and Laurel Parkinson-Pucey were James's and Aiden's on again, off again girlfriends, and the two were notoriously easy—for the right guy, of course. There were your Ravenclaw sluts, who banged their way through the school's male population, and then there were Camila and Laurel, the high society variety slut, who exclusively dated only the most eligible of Hogwarts boys. Namely, James and Aiden, when they weren't preoccupied with anyone else.

Stella had a sour look on her face. "You both ought to raise your standards," she said resentfully. "Those two are disgusting."

"Come on now, love," Aiden said with a reassuring kiss to her cheek, "you know they're only for a bit of fun. And surely you wouldn't rather I start up with Lise Devereux, hm? Those Ravenclaws are a bit grimy, after all." He grinned when Stella wrinkled her nose at him.

"I stand corrected," she sniffed. "_You_ two are the disgusting ones."

* * *

"Ugh, what's with the delay?" Marcus groaned to Aurora as they sat in the Great Hall, waiting for the feast to begin. First-years had been sorted, and his stomach wouldn't stop growling.

Aurora sniggered. "I really don't think you'll starve, Weasley," she whispered with a laugh.

"I may," Marcus replied with a pained look. Just then, Dumbledore then stood up, and the room once more fell silent.

"It is my pleasure to inform you that for the first part of this year, Hogwarts will be hosting five exchange students, years four through seven, from the Orenda Babcock Academy in southern England. I hope that each of you will treat our visitors with great kindness and hospitality. They are the brightest and best of their Academy. Please, let us welcome them." He glanced at the door, and at that moment it opened and Argus Filch entered, with five students trailing behind him. They all headed for the front of the room, and Marcus noticed all the girls goggling at the boy at the end of the line. He had dark hair and striking blue eyes, and seemed a cross between Potter and Black as he strode with a kind of lazy confidence after his classmates until they all stood before the stool upon which the old Sorting Hat sat.

"Great," he muttered to Sam. "We absolutely needed another asshole heartthrob at this place."

"Welcome, Babcockians! You shall now be sorted into one of our four fine houses," Dumbledore went on jovially.

"Think he's overdosed on the mead? It's not natural to smile that much," Sam whispered across the table, and Marcus had to stifle a snigger.

The hat broke into its yearly song, outlining the four houses, and Marcus tried to distract himself from his hunger by paying close attention as the first four individuals were sorted. Lydia Dickson and Fiona Langley both ended up in Hufflepuff, Leonard Vaughn in Slytherin, and Julianne Weber in Gryffindor.

"And finally, Mister Nolen van der Spek," Dumbledore called. The boy who had attracted so much attention walked up easily, looking utterly unruffled at being the subject of so many curious gazes. He took a seat, and waited with a growing look of irritation as the hat sat happily on his head for some time, not making any decision. When it finally announced "Gryffindor!" Marcus couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance. Across the table, he saw even Emma perk up.

"Not you too, Emmy," he grumbled to her.

"Our very own Potter!" she crowed, looking smug. "Look how sour the Slytherin girls look that we got him," she pointed out, smirking. "Might change their opinion of our boys, eh?" She winked at Aurora who laughed back while Marcus scowled protectively. His little sister's dating life was definitely not one of his favorite topics.

"Only once hell freezes over," Sam replied, looking doubtful.

Dumbledore stood up once more. He made his yearly announcements, then with a wave of his wand, food appeared on the tables and everyone dug in.

"_Finally_," Marcus breathed before shoveling a forkful into his mouth.

Sam nodded in agreement as he stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth.

After several minutes of ravenous eating, the table of Gryffindors began to slow down and conversation started back up.

Sam had turned to the exchange students, Julianne and Nolen. "Any of you lot play Quidditch?" he inquired, sizing them up. Emma looked over interestedly. She too was on the Gryffindor House team.

Nolen nodded.

"Nice," Sam said, nodding approvingly. "We've got tryouts Saturday, and Gryffindor's desperate for some replacement players. What do you play?"

Nolen shrugged. "I'm my house's Keeper at Babcock, but I can really play whatever you need." He was trying not to look excited, but Marcus could detect a hint of interest in him.

"Well, you'd really have to have an excellent trial to get Keeper from Emmy here," Sam began with a grin, "and even then, she might just decide to clobber you for stealing her position so you couldn't get your chance to play"—Emma looked darkly at him, but Sam just smiled and continued—"still, I need a new partner in crime—you up for Beater?"

Nolen nodded once, briskly.

"Ten o'clock Saturday morning," Emma put in, apparently out to show Nolen she was indeed normal, friendly, and quite safe to be around.

He shrugged agreeably, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Excellent," Sam pronounced.

* * *

The feast had ended, everyone was in bed, and Aiden Black lay awake in his four-poster, thoroughly exhausted but unable to sleep. Because the face of a certain beautiful Gryffindor kept popping into his mind, and it seemed there was nothing he could do to stop it.

_Get a bloody hold of yourself, Black_, he instructed himself. _This is fucking _embarrassing.

Aiden sighed heavily, and ran a hand through his dark hair, and rolled over onto his side. What the bloody hell was the matter with him? And could he have come up with anyone more strictly forbidden? Fucking Emma Weasley. She had all the annoying, outspoken righteousness of his delightful second cousin, Gryffindor Princess Malfoy, and was Weasley's baby sister on top of it.

What would James say if he knew? Worse even than that would be Stella's response. While she hated all the Gryffindors, she loathed the girls in particular. Her tolerance for Aurora Malfoy had waned within the first few days of first year, and Stella had loathed Emma since the moment she'd arrived at Hogwarts at the start of their second year and latched onto her older brother's group, becoming something of a Gryffindor Stella herself, what with the popular brother coming to her rescue and all.

Aiden had surmised that Stella's hatred stemmed in part from the insults hurting more coming from another girl, particularly one who was so much more confident and well-liked…and in part because Stella was jealous of that self-assurance and reputation those Gryffindor ladies had in spades. When Stella was a bitch, people called her Ice Princess Potter. When Emma was a bitch, people admired her guts and ability to fully disregard even the worst insults the Slytherins sent her way; she was a hero. Aiden really couldn't blame Stella for hating her, but he also couldn't pretend he didn't find it wildly attractive that Emma said and did whatever the hell she wanted.

He covered his face with his hands, letting out a small growl of frustration. _Black, you utterly pathetic weakling! She's just an ugly, annoying bitch!_

Of course he couldn't convince himself that. He thought she was gorgeous, talented, and delightfully snarky. She was perfect. _They_ would be perfect, if Aiden only had a chance to be with her. And unfortunately, he would never be given that chance.

* * *

Please review!


	2. The Bet

Chapter Two: The Bet

* * *

In the Slytherin girls' dormitory Saturday morning, Stella Potter sat wide awake in her bed, the curtains drawn around her. She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples slowly. Something was bothering her, but she couldn't figure out what. Admittedly, she was a bit of a worrier, but that was only because she had managed to lose so much in a mere 16 years of living. The few people she cared for she cared almost _too_ much for; the idea of losing any of them was beyond devastating, especially considering that she was a rather fragile creature emotion-wise to begin with. So really, it made sense, but that didn't make it any easier.

And right now, that familiar icky feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach, but whether her anxiety was warranted or just a symptom of missing her father again, Stella didn't know. But either way, she wasn't going to feel any better just sitting there alone, so she tiptoed out of the room and snuck up to the boys' dormitories. She smiled when she recognized the mass of clothes, school supplies, and Quidditch equipment spilling from the trunk that belonged to her brother. She headed for the bed that the trunk stood up against and pulled back the curtain a few inches. Her brother lay sleeping, his raven hair more unruly than usual. She frowned when she noticed his furrowed brow and the stubborn protrusion of his jaw. Her twin shuddered, his shoulders tensing. Stella slid in beside him and kissed his cheek softly.

"Shh," she crooned. Her brother's brow creased further. "James," she whispered. "James, wake up."

James's eyes fluttered open and he frowned in confusion.

"Zabini?" he asked, attempting to keep his eyes open. "What the hell are you do—"

"It's me, jerk-face," Stella said, rolling her eyes as she covered James's mouth with her hand.

James's eyes finally managed to open all the way, and he blinked a few more times before his twin came in to focus.

"Oh," he said, a relieved smile evident on his features. "Good."

Stella cocked an eyebrow. "Does Camila come in your bed often?" she asked, sniggering a little.

James grinned wryly. "Once in a while." He suddenly looked at her worriedly. "What's up? What are you doing up here? You okay?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.

Instead of answering, Stella rolled over and snuggled into her brother, her back against his chest. "I just have that feeling again," she mumbled after a moment.

She felt James wrap his strong arms around her and she smiled. No one would believe that her brother, who put on such a tough act for everyone else, had a deeply caring side to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked her gently.

Stella shrugged, shivering a little. "Just unsettled, I guess?"

They lay in silence for a while before James spoke up.

"Worried about Dad?" he asked softly.

He really knew her too well.

She nodded slowly, but smiled when she felt James tighten his grip around her.

"I miss him," she whispered. "And we haven't heard from him in ages."

James nodded. "He knows what he's doing, Stella-belle," he said soothingly, kissing what part of her forehead he could reach.

Stella sighed. "I know," she said, snuggling back against her brother.

At last somewhat comforted, she let herself drift back to sleep for a little while longer, but was rudely awoken not long after by a mass of clothing being thrown at the curtained bed, hitting Stella squarely in the face.

"Potter, get up! Quidditch trials soon, we've got to grab breakfast."

She peeked through the curtains to see Aiden with his back to them, shirtless and wearing a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms as he dug through his trunk. She blushed darkly and glanced back at her brother.

James groaned and sat up.

"I mean it, Potter. I'm hungry." A slipper came flying through the curtains, catching Stella in the back this time.

"Leave me the fuck alone," James grumbled.

Aiden didn't respond, but the curtains around the bed were suddenly flung back. Aiden stood with the other slipper poised in his hand.

"Get a move on, Potter—" Aiden stopped when he saw Stella glaring at him, eyeing the other slipper warily. "Get a move on, _Potters_," he corrected himself, ignoring the fact that Stella was in a skimpy nightgown and turning back to his trunk.

Stella hopped off the bed and grabbed a button-down shirt of her brother's from the floor. She pulled the shirt on, hugging it around her as she marched out the door, chin high. Once safely in her dormitory, she flung the shirt back off, grabbed some clothes of her own, and went to go wash up.

"Late night, honey?" one of her roommates called.

"_Potter_? Hah! Don't make me _laugh_…" the other one sniggered.

Stella glowered at the two girls that were getting dressed, Theodora Avery and Naomi Holloway, before proceeding to the shower.

"Damned sluts," she growled to herself as she squirted shampoo into her hand and began lathering it through her hair. That was one thing Stella prided herself on, anyway: while her brother and her best friend, as well as her obnoxious roommates, delighted in shagging any attractive specimen of the opposite sex they met (except for Hufflepuffs, obviously…but wait, were there any attractive Hufflepuffs?), Stella was pleased to say that she was still a virgin. Oh, alright, she'd admit it—it was tough to get a boyfriend when your protective brother didn't allow any guys but Aiden and Tommy to come anywhere near you, and when Stella did go on the odd date, James looked so upset that she vowed to herself she'd never stray out again.

But still—if she so chose, she could have found some little fling and gone behind her brother's back…but Stella couldn't bear to be like all those mindless twits that she saw her brother and Aid with. _She_ wasn't going to fall for some stupid badass jerk that would hurt her. Truth be told, she'd already a serious crush for several long years on a completely noble, sweet, and _gorgeous_ boy who was absolutely nothing like her brother or Aiden: Ben Kim.

Stella began humming softly to herself as she rinsed out her shampoo. Of course, the one trouble was that she barely ever had opportunity to speak to him. He was in seventh year, so they took none of the same classes, and he had his own group of Slytherin friends he hung around with.

But Stella shook her head to clear her thoughts—it would not do to dwell on Ben, as he was obviously unattainable—and finished with her shower. Fifteen minutes later, she was dragging James and Aiden out the door and in the direction of the Great Hall for breakfast.

* * *

"AURORA!" Sam bellowed from the base of the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitories.

Upstairs, Aurora remained curled up in her blankets, enjoying the fact that it was the first Saturday of the term, and she could stay in bed all day if she wanted.

"_Aurora bloody Malfoy_!" Sam roared.

Well, perhaps not all day.

"Get the fuck out of bed, Ror," Zoey moaned from a neighboring four-poster, "before I kill him and then you." There came sleepy, angry grumbles of agreement from her other three roommates, Clemence Bertrand, Justine Rogers, and Elin Jansson.

Aurora groaned, then slowly sat up. She heard stomping on the steps, but before Sam could yell at her, she waved a hand resignedly. "I'm up," she muttered, searching around for some clothes.

"Five minutes," Sam hissed from the doorway. "You have _five minutes_, do you hear me, Malfoy?"

Aurora grumbled a response, shooed him out half-heartedly, and began dressing in some Quidditch-appropriate clothing for that morning's tryouts, which she had apparently nearly overslept.

Once downstairs, Aurora stopped by the Great Hall for some toast, then began walking across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. Already there were the remaining players from last year's squad: Sam, a Beater; Emma, the Keeper; and Antonia Petrovic and Marcus, both Chasers. Aurora, wiry and agile like her father, was Seeker. Sam was team captain, and he looked furious with her for daring to be late.

As she approached, Sam came up and thrust a list in her hand. "List of people trying out," he said brusquely.

Aurora nodded, then looked up to see who had come out for the trial. Besides Nolen van der Spek, the candidates included Lena Li, Nina Nadif, Jake Longbottom, and several young students Aurora didn't recognize.

An hour later, Aurora sat aboard her Kaleidoscope 5, watching trials and yawning uncontrollably. Sam, as captain, was the main person making the decision, but the others had a say in the matter as well. Aurora surveyed Lena and Jake as the two passed a Quaffle back and forth. Both were excellent players, and had only been kept off the team due to older students occupying spots as Chasers. When a Bludger came out of nowhere, heading to the two, Aurora watched Nolen shoot over, whacking the ball away from Lena and Jake.

Sam flew toward her. "Thoughts?" he asked, looking quite recovered from his annoyance with her, and fully concentrated on the business at hand.

Aurora glanced out at the players. "Nolen and Lena," she replied easily. "Rest are crap."

Sam's lips quirked into an amused half-grin. "That's what Marcus and I thought, too," he said, laughing. He narrowed his eyes as he observed second-year Jake Longbottom. "Jake's not bad though."

Aurora nodded. "Yeah, but he's too young."

"If Professor Longbottom starts punishing me for leaving his kid off the team, I'll clobber you, Malfoy," Sam said, a sly grin creeping onto his face that made Aurora burst out laughing. "Who do you think will play well with Marcus?" Sam went on.

Aurora gave him a look. "Oh, _please_, Sam," she said, snorting. "Marcus is the best player in the school. He could make Hagrid's bloody dog look like an all-star teammate."

"To hell with the formalities, then," Sam sniggered. "Shall we have Fang join?"

* * *

James and the Slytherin team headed toward the Quidditch pitch, watching as the Gryffindors vacated the space. As the two teams passed each other in stony silence, James surveyed the dark looks being shot in his direction with satisfaction.

"Tryouts must have been a disaster for them," James sniggered to Aiden, who nodded, smirking broadly.

"Come on," James told his team once they'd arrived at the center of the pitch, then glanced at his list of candidates. "Nott, Fletcher, you two pass the Quaffle; I want to see how you handle it. Torres, get in position, so we can have…" he looked at his list again, "…Worthing, both McLaggens, Nadif, and Hargrove start taking shots on you. Okoye, keep an eye on their passing. Black, Stella, bring out the Bludgers and knock them around. And _Holloway_," he said, turning a smirk at the lovely Naomi Holloway, one of the team's Chasers, "you come with me to help evaluate." Naomi smiled smugly and came to stand beside James, ignoring the glares of Stella as well as those of all the other girls that had clearly only come to trials to try and flirt with James, like Melora Worthing and Anna McLaggen. Camila and Laurel naturally had a touch more dignity: instead of pretending they could play, they were up in the stands with their friends, cheering on their boys and flashing haughty looks or warning glares at any girl that dared drool over James or Aiden.

James rolled his eyes to himself, reflecting on their classier devotion and possessive natures almost affectionately. Then he ordered the Slytherins to mount their brooms, and soon everyone was busy with their various assignments.

"How's it looking, James?" Naomi said in her low, sultry voice, sweeping some of her dark brown hair off her shoulder as she flew beside him.

James turned to her and flashed one of his heart-stopping smirks. "The view from here is faultless," he said, his eyes sweeping over her mysterious features, lithe body, and thick mane of hair. "But the rest of the team could use some work."

Naomi smiled slyly.

James winked at the girl, then focused on the candidates. "Good save, Torres!" James called approvingly to his Keeper. Gabe Torres offered a brief nod in acknowledgement.

Naomi smoothly flew to James's side. "How about Dom?" she asked, her husky, sexy voice making it hard for James to resist the urge to pull her over and snog her senseless.

James turned to watch Dom Fletcher. "He's good," he admitted, nodding as he saw Fletcher dive to catch a pass from Nott that had fallen short.

"Mmm," Naomi agreed, somehow managing to come up close to him but keep from running her broom into him. Naomi smiled a secret smile to herself, and all James could think of was how badly he wanted to get her alone.

"Holloway…" he breathed, leaning in close, oblivious to whatever glare Camila must have been shooting at him from the stands.

Naomi sat still, perched on her broom and allowing him to come near, but with that smug little smile ever present, taunting him and inviting him at the same time. Basically just driving him mad with lust. There was something very mysterious about her that he found highly attractive.

His lips were inches from hers when a shout pulled him back to reality.

"Potter! You watching the candidates or not?" Aiden's tone was sneering, but when James looked over at him, his best friend was grinning knowingly. Beside him, Stella hovered on her broomstick, arms folded in front of her and scowling deeply.

He trained his eyes back on the candidates in time to watch Zane Nadif score an impressive goal on Torres.

"Nice, Zane," Naomi called out coolly, then shot a smirk at James, her brow cocked suggestively.

James smiled to himself. Naomi Holloway might just be his next girl.

* * *

"Alright," Sam began, rapping his knuckles on the common room table to get everyone's attention. "Beater—thoughts?"

"Nolen," Antonia said immediately, and the others nodded their agreement.

"Easy enough," Sam said, writing something down. "And Chaser?"

There was some discussion, but in the end the team decided upon Lena Li.

"Excellent," Sam said. "I'll post the results. Practice starts Monday night," he added before they all left. Sam turned to face the notice board, and with a flick of his wand, fixed a piece of parchment on it, announcing the new players.

Marcus nodded approvingly before going up to his dorm room. He was just pulling off his Quidditch robes and searching for a clean shirt when he heard footsteps on the stairs, then the door of his room slam shut.

He turned around to see Zoey Patil-Creevey halted at the other end of the room.

"You're the only one here?" she asked, her large brown eyes fixed on him.

Marcus nodded once, and she launched herself at him.

"I know…we…said—" Zoey breathed as she wrestled him onto the bed and began tugging at the waistband of his pants, "—we'd…stop this…and haven't talked…since…school began—" she paused to kiss him deeply, and Marcus used her momentary distraction to flip her over and pin her down.

"Stop what?" Marcus said, smirking broadly down at her.

Zoey's eyes widened excitedly, and she grinned up at him. "We don't have to stop?" she asked coyly, looking hopeful.

Marcus shook his head, looking amused. "Creevey, I haven't stopped thinking about you all summer long," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her neck and beginning to unbutton her shirt.

"Lovely," she said, exhaling contentedly before reaching down to wiggle out of her jeans.

* * *

Though the rest of the Slytherins had long since left, James continued to fly aimlessly around the empty Quidditch pitch. An idea had been percolating in the back of his mind for the last few days since the train ride to school, and as foolish as it was, he couldn't seem to get it out of his mind.

He was remembering Aiden's offhanded suggestion that he spice things up by pursuing someone a little tougher than his usual conquests. And while the Hufflepuff idea was absolutely out of the question, going after Malfoy did not seem quite so unacceptable.

James slowed down, sat back on his broom and gazed out at the setting sun. Sure, he could go for Holloway, McLaggen or any number of girls who'd been fawning over him since the start of school. Holloway even had the promise of being somewhat challenging, but that was nothing to the potential triumph of getting into the pants of the most rational, asexual, and—aside from Stella—highly protected girl in school.

And the thing that made it so deliciously palatable was that Malfoy _wasn't_ so wholly repulsive. She was tall and slim, quick-witted without Emma Weasley's fat know-it-all mouth, and she had that absurd Malfoy hair that half the school coveted; he'd heard Camila's scathing thoughts on the subject at least a half-dozen times ("_What a waste of a perfect head of hair__!_").

It would throw the entire fucking school for a loop. No one would see it coming, and while dating a Hufflepuff would make people think he'd gone insane, dating Aurora Malfoy was just plausible enough to intrigue the boys and infuriate the girls. And best of all, Thomas and Weasley would go fucking _ballistic_.

If he could get her to fall for him, even just to sleep with him—waste her first time on him…. Oh, the idea had merit. This could very well be his best plan yet for pissing off the bloody Gryffindors.

Decided, James began a graceful dive, landed, and began making his way back to the dungeons.

* * *

Aurora sighed heavily and put her face in her hands. First Saturday of term, and already she was overrun with work. Quidditch had certainly cost her valuable study time, but either way, she could tell sixth year was going to be a bitch.

"Ugh, help me, Rors," a voice came from behind her, and Aurora turned to see a rather frazzled-looking Zoey approaching.

"Sleep late?" Aurora asked, looking amused as she eyed Zoey's mussed dark hair.

Zoey nodded distractedly, pulling out her Charms materials. "You done this essay yet?" she asked, skimming the prompt once more then looking up at Aurora. "Shit, I need more books than this," she went on, not waiting for Aurora's answer and instead standing abruptly then hurrying to the other side of the library.

Aurora rolled her eyes affectionately and returned to her Potions essay, which was proving to be rather awful.

"Hey, Aurora. This spot open?"

Aurora glanced at the boy standing in front of her. "Sure," she said in surprise, only just managing not to ogle Liam Owens in utter shock. Past him, she saw Zoey returning from the other side of the library to reclaim her seat beside Aurora, but as soon as Zoey spotted Liam, a huge cat-ate-the-canary grin came over her face and she scurried away, winking obviously.

Aurora could have fainted. Damn her. Of course Zoey wanted to give them alone time to sort their shit out—and in the bloody library of all places. She and Liam had _kind_ of had a thing last year, but summer had come and they'd barely communicated and Aurora had pretty much assumed he was over it. She was less willing to admit that she wasn't exactly over him.

Presently, she half-smiled up at Liam uncertainly, and made room at the table for his things. Liam sat down and peered over at her work.

"Potions?" he asked conversationally.

Aurora nodded, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what he was doing here. Maybe he just had a question about the assignment.

Liam grinned. "I started working on that essay earlier. Nasty, isn't it?"

Aurora nodded emphatically, loosening up a little. Homework was, after all, a comfort zone. "I know," she exclaimed. "I mean, the medicinal properties of Flowering Rudola? That stuff's been extinct in Europe for ages; I can hardly find any information on it!"

"I checked in _Fourteenth Century Flora_," Liam told her. "Had a decent-sized paragraph on it."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," Aurora said gratefully.

Liam stood up and wandered to the other end of the library, returning a minute later with a massive burgundy book. He sat down and opened the book, pushing his bookish (yet actually really sexy) tortoise frames further up on his nose. As he flipped through the pages, looking for the section on Flowering Rudola, Aurora chanced a look up at Zoey. The other girl had managed to find Emma, and they were both peering at Aurora from across the library, pretending to work but clearly just spying on Aurora. Emma made a very deliberate head gesture, widening her eyes and grinning at Aurora in silent encouragement. Aurora looked helplessly back.

Zoey and Emma had always been fans of Liam, and had been trying to convince Aurora all summer long that he was just a teenaged boy and teenaged boys sucked at things like being in a different place for an entire summer. But as both Zoey and Emma had no shortage of experience with the matter, Aurora figured she might as well follow their clear advice and give Liam his second shot at her. Assuming that was indeed why he was here just now.

"There we are. Chapter Eleven." Liam pushed the book in front of Aurora and pointed out an important passage.

"This is amazing," she said, scanning through the information before looking up and smiling shyly. "Thanks, Liam," she said.

Liam was watching her closely, head tilted slightly to the side. "Oh, anytime," he replied easily. "Listen, Aurora, I've been thinking…" he started, running a hand through his hair before looking her straight in the eye. "Would you…I mean, would you like to go to the Hogsmeade outing next weekend together? Maybe get dinner?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow up in question.

Aurora stared at him stupidly for the briefest of moments before she answered, "I'd love to!" Hopefully he hadn't noticed the slight squeak to her voice. How was it that she could communicate the most terrible of insults to James Potter, but talking with Liam made her all flustered and nervy? She was such a disaster.

But Liam relaxed into an easy smile. "Alright," he said, actually looking rather excited, "then can I meet you around six? Outside your commons?"

Aurora nodded, her stomach somersaulting dangerously. "I'm looking forward to it," she added, shooting him a grin.

Liam grinned back, fiddling with his glasses once more. "Me too. I've got to head back to my dorm, but I'll see you in Potions, Aurora."

Aurora watched as Liam left and in the next second, Emma had vaulted into the seat beside her and was demanding details, Zoey right behind her. "What happened?" she asked excitedly. "That looked like more than just homework talk…"

"Uh," Aurora said absently, still watching the doorway Liam had disappeared out of before turning back to Emma. "Uh, he asked me to Hogsmeade?"

Zoey screeched, and two seconds later, Madam Pince had kicked them both out of the library for being disruptive. Zoey and Emma chattered happily beside her as they walked out, but Aurora allowed her thoughts to drift back to Liam and his lovely smile. Even with the added weight of _Fourteenth Century Flora_ to her already crammed bag, Aurora felt lighter than air.

* * *

_I have to stop bloody thinking about her_, Aiden growled to himself as he sat in the deserted Slytherin common room, trying to finish homework while images of a certain Gryffindor kept popping up in his mind. _You're delusional. Emma Weasley is a bratty little wiseass. A nosy bitch who thinks she's better than everyone else._

Aiden groaned in aggravation. _I need to distract myself_, he thought firmly. There had to be other girls. Aiden racked his brain. Wasn't there someone he could date to divert his attention from Emma? Except that he just couldn't think of anyone who could compare to her. He hated himself for thinking that, but at the same time, he felt there was nothing he could do.

"Black. I've fucking got it," a voice called from the entranceway to the dungeons. Aiden looked up to see James climbing in, broomstick in hand.

"Got what?"

"Well actually, it was your idea," he clarified, grinning excitedly. "Remember on the train, we were talking about Malfoy?"

Aiden looked at him suspiciously. Where was this going? And was it going to end up fucking over Malfoy and, by extension, Emma? Not to mention, the girl _was_ his cousin. He did feel some vague protective instinct toward her; teasing was one thing, but he had a hunch James was about to outdo himself.

"Yes…" Aiden said slowly.

"And how you said she'd be more of a challenge than my usual lay?"

Aiden felt his insides starting to chill. "I remember," he said warily.

"Well you were right," James went on, smirking broadly. "And I'm going to do it. I'm going to sleep with Malfoy. And won't _that_ piss off her mates," he finished triumphantly.

"Potter…" Aiden began weakly, trying hard to behave normally. "I think you had it right before."

"What do you mean?" James said distractedly, finally sitting down beside him.

"About her bodyguards. About the ten-foot radius."

James scoffed.

Aiden snorted in an attempt to keep his rising panic in check. "Come on, Potter. The girl was born a nun. No guy in school could get her in bed," he pointed out.

"You overestimate her," James said dismissively. "Malfoy's starved for any kind of action, and I bet she's feeling all down on herself since that thing with Owens fizzled out. Get her all excited, and it would be a piece of cake."

Aiden shook his head stubbornly. "No way," he said firmly. "Malfoy isn't going to give you any."

"And I think I'll prove you wrong," James rejoined, his eyes blazing.

Aiden was fighting a losing battle, and both he and James knew it. He sighed heavily. "Alright, then go ahead and prove it," he snapped tiredly.

James seemed to light up. "Is that a challenge?" he asked, regarding Aiden with interest.

"Sure," Aiden said recklessly.

"The terms?"

"Simple," Aiden plowed on, "you sleep with her and leave her brokenhearted. Make her fall head-over-heels for you. Then drop her." Ah yes, there it was, the best way to win Emma's heart—to make his best friend humiliate hers.

James grinned wickedly. "This will be my greatest victory, Black. Seducing the most responsible, sensible witch in the school…"

Aiden had to smirk along with his best friend. "Precisely why I'm betting against you succeeding," he said smugly. "You pull this off, I'll buy you a case of butterbeer."

James shook his head, grinning widely. "It'll have to be better than that, Black. After all, we _are_ talking about a Gryffindor prude."

Aiden's stomach turned, but he forced a laugh. "Okay, those top-of-the-line Quidditch gloves that just came out, then."

James grinned and stuck out his hand. "You've got yourself a deal."

"Wait," Aiden smirked, "but if you _lose_, those gloves are mine…_and_ you have to take whomever I choose to the end of year ball—and let's be clear; it won't be Zabini." Aiden sniggered as thought about several Hufflepuffs who would fit the bill nicely. "Are we still on?" He looked at his best friend with a challenging expression and held out his hand.

James grinned and grasped Aiden's hand, shaking it firmly. "We're on."

* * *

Please review!


	3. Secrets, Secrets

Chapter Three: Secrets, Secrets

* * *

Zoey Patil-Creevey crept out of Marcus's bed the next morning well before anyone else had stirred, not wanting to risk any of his roommates seeing her, or Aurora noticing her empty bed.

Oh, who did she think she was kidding?

It didn't matter one bit if Sam found out; he wouldn't give a fuck—he wasn't emotional enough and had his own love life to keep him occupied. Aurora was the only reason Zoey and Marcus had agreed their relationship—whatever it was—should remain a secret. Because they had a hunch Aurora would be pretty upset if she ever found out of their involvement. Zoey knew Aurora was pretty attached to the way her relationship with her best friend had been for the last sixteen years, and wouldn't be thrilled about Zoey coming along and changing it.

Alright, so Zoey was scared to tell her too. Sure, Aurora had just been asked on a date by her crush and had certainly been oblivious to her fair share of male attention over the years, but for her to learn that her best friend had decided he wanted to get naked with one of the only girls Aurora had managed to get close to might just drive her into a withdrawn depression. Or at least make her feel isolated and complicate all of their relationships with one another.

And what was Zoey supposed to say, really? Because it wasn't exactly the easily forgiven we-went-behind-your-back-but-it's-okay-because-we're-fairy-tale-soulmates type of romance: a week before summer vacation had started last year, at the end of school dance, Zoey had gotten a bit sloshed, which really wasn't so out of the ordinary for her. But what _had_ been out of the ordinary was pulling one of her best male friends into a deserted corridor and ending up having sex in a broom cupboard. And when they'd tried to have the awkward, sober, we'll-never-do-this-again conversation the next day, it had happened again. At least it had been in a bed that time.

And her summer away in India with her family had clearly not lessened their affections.

So Zoey had to wonder…how much was Ror going to hate her when she found out?

* * *

Stella sat up in bed with a start. There it was again. That stupid, nagging worry. Strong enough to wake her from what had been actually rather pleasant dreams. What was the fucking matter with her?

Shaking her head, Stella glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Seven o'clock. She sighed heavily and made to get out of bed. If she was going to be awake at this hour, she may as well be productive. It might even distract her from her nerves.

Stella quietly crept down the stairs, lugging her Charms materials with her, and plopped her things on a table. To her utter surprise, she saw her twin at the other end of the common room, looking like he was concentrating very hard on something. She exhaled a heavy breath of relief. James would make her feel better.

"James?"

"Huh?" Her brother looked at her in surprise.

"What's up?" she asked, a frown forming on her face

James shrugged. "Oh, nothing," he said evasively. "Just thinking. Why are you down?"

Stella looked down at her hands. "I'm woke up worrying again," she admitted sheepishly. "I know there's no reason—"

"Fuck, Stella," James groaned. "Give it a rest."

Stella blinked. "What?" she asked stupidly, completely confused by James's behavior. Since when did he get so upset with her over—effectively—nothing?

"Oh, please," he sneered, looking at her in disgust. "Chill out, alright? Dad's fine, we're fine, you're getting all bent out of shape over nothing."

Stella's jaw dropped. "I am not," she said with hurt. What was his problem? Even a pat on the head and a kiss on the forehead would have soothed her. But now…

"Okay, then," he said mockingly.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Why are you acting so spineless?" he countered at a shout so loud that Stella actually jumped in surprise. "Do you always have to be so damned worried? Just ignore it! What good's going to come from getting anxious over everything, anyway?"

Stella glared at him. "What the hell is your problem?" she demanded.

"My problem?" James growled. "My problem is that you always come whining to me when something doesn't go your way. Do you have do be so damned annoying? Grow up already!"

"I don't know why you're acting like this, James, but you'd better stop talking like that to me," Stella said, glowering at him.

"If you don't want to hear it, then get the hell out of here," James snarled, staring at the fire.

"Fine, James," Stella said, standing up. "I don't know why I thought you would care."

"Damned right I wouldn't care."

"Why are you being such a bastard?" she asked, by now so upset by his behavior that tears were starting to pool in her green eyes. "What did I even do? Did something happen last night you're upset about?"

James ignored her questions. "Just leave me alone," he muttered.

"Not until you stop being such a prat. I'm your twin, for Merlin's sake!"

"Fuck off."

"What the hell did you just say to me?" She forced herself to be strong, but his words hit her like a knife in the gut.

"I said, fuck off!" James roared, daring her to talk back.

Stella's eyes widened in anger and hurt, but she spun on her heel and ran up the stairs, unable to stop the tears from flowing. She fell onto her bed, pulled the curtains closed tightly, and began to sob.

* * *

Marcus sleepily reached across his sheets, but feeling them empty and rather cool, fully woke to realize Zoey had left. Heaving a sigh, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the canopy, a smile starting to play at his lips.

Boy, he certainly hadn't expected this. Both last year, before they'd first gotten together, and even this year, after they'd returned to school. Zoey had a habit of being fickle and erratic, and he couldn't quite say he'd expected her interest to persevere so robustly over the long summer apart. In fact, Marcus himself bordered on the commitment-phobic, and it was pretty miraculous indeed that he not only wasn't freaking out about Zoey spending the night in his bed, but was already looking forward to the next time he'd see her.

And Marcus had to admit, he liked it. He'd never avoided commitment for the James Potter sort of reason—namely, to get through as many girls in as little time as possible—and he was genuinely baffled as to why his affections just seemed to fizzle out whenever he'd spent more than a few days with a girl. But he'd successfully spent an impassioned week with Zoey at the end of the previous year, thought about her all summer long, and let her spend last night curled up around him. That had to bode well, right?

And best of all, Marcus could objectively say they made a pretty fucking great couple. Okay, so they weren't out in the open, and for now, most of the time they managed to get alone together was occupied by sleep or sex. But it was intense and exciting, and what could be better than sleeping with someone you were already close friends with?

* * *

By lunchtime, James was itching to get started on Aiden's dare. He looked for Malfoy, but she wasn't at the Gryffindor table. He turned back to his lunch distractedly, glancing quickly at his twin first, who was stubbornly avoiding his gaze.

_Well, it's her own fault_, James thought irritably. _If she weren't so damned paranoid and didn't always come running to me like a four-year-old…._

"So how's the bet coming?" Aiden asked him quietly, interrupting his thoughts.

James smirked at him. "Don't rush me, Black. I've got to plan it just right."

"Right," Aiden scoffed. "Don't take too much time, Potter. 'Cause it'll take quite a bit of work to make Malfoy fall for _you_," he pointed out.

James sneered at him. "Don't worry about me, Black. I could do this in a week."

Aiden looked doubtful. "I gave you the whole school year to do it for a reason," he said smugly. "I think you're underestimating the barriers of Malfoy's horrible Gryffindor morals."

James waved away the comment unconcernedly as he got up to go check the library for Malfoy.

"See you, Black," he called carelessly.

As soon as he had entered the library, James spotted Malfoy's blonde head pouring over a large textbook. Perfect.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, smirking roguishly at her and taking another seat at the round table.

She looked up at him blankly. "Yes. What do you want?" she asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Really, Malfoy," James said, shaking his head pleasantly. "I'm trying to be civil here, and you're just being rude."

Malfoy stood up and began gathering her things. "Sod off, Potter." She went up to the librarian's desk, handing Madam Pince several books. "I'll take these, please," she said.

"Malfoy," James said, standing as well and following her, "do you always have to be so difficult? Maybe I actually just want to talk to you."

Malfoy snorted. "And how often does _that_ happen?" she said, grabbing the books Madam Pince was handing back to her and turning to head out of the library.

"Come on, Malfoy," James said patiently, trying to sound charming although he was inwardly groaning in frustration. She was so goddamn obstinate. He grabbed Malfoy's arm to stop her.

Malfoy spun around abruptly, her eyes blazing. "What do you _want_, Potter?" she demanded, obviously annoyed.

James grinned smugly. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're mad?" he sniggered.

Malfoy whipped back around and began stalking off.

James rolled his eyes in annoyance, but, remembering the bet, took off after her. "Wait, Malfoy!" he called, catching up to her easily, due to the immense load she was carrying, and stepping in her path.

"What is the fucking matter with you today, Potter?" the girl exasperated, putting down her stack of books and putting her hands on her hips challengingly. "I didn't think it was possible, but you're being even more of a prat than usual!"

James's eyes flashed angrily, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'll ignore that comment, Malfoy, but this is your last chance."

She made a sound of revulsion in the back of her throat. "Last chance for what?" she snapped, laughing harshly. "Going to go down on your knees and apologize for giving me and my friends hell these past five years?"

James had to swallow down a retort and turned a charming smile on Aurora. "Something like that," he said smoothly.

Malfoy's eyebrows rose in amazement. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" she inquired skeptically, not so viciously as before.

James smirked. She was falling for it. Of _course_ this was going to be a piece of cake. "Come with me to Hogsmeade?" he asked.

It was the Gryffindor's turn to smirk. "I'm busy," she said haughtily, playing up the Malfoy arrogance.

"Busy?" James frowned. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Yes," she said breezily. "I've got a date. Mind moving out of my way?"

James couldn't help the shocked expression from appearing on his face.

Malfoy rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Oh, please," she said huffily. "As if someone asking me out was so hard to believe. You just did it, in fact." She sneered at him smugly.

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy," James sneered, glaring at her. "I only wanted to discuss a little Quidditch, find out about the enemy." Inwardly, he grimaced. _Quidditch? Come on Potter, surely you can do better than _that_…_

Malfoy smirked knowingly. "Whatever you say, Potter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

"You really think you're clever, don't you?" James leered.

Malfoy regarded him coldly. "Only compared to those who believe being an arrogant, smart-ass bastard can be considered clever," she said icily. "Now get out of my way before I hex you."

With a smirk, James fell silent. He slowly pushed her back against the wall, not taking his eyes from her startled gray ones. A wisp of her blonde hair hung in her face and James gently pushed it behind her ear. "Hex me," he whispered, smirking confidently and leaning in to her.

"Get the fuck away from me, Potter!" Malfoy spat, shoving him away from her. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Leave me the hell _alone_." She began picking up her books hastily before striding away.

"You know you want me!" Potter called after her smugly.

Malfoy stopped dead in her tracks.

"Contrary to popular belief," she shouted, her emotions clearly getting the better of her as she turned around, books still balanced precariously in her arms, "the Earth does _not_ revolve around you. Not _every_ girl wants you, you arrogant prat!"

"Oh, I don't think so," James said calmly, striding toward her again and fixing her with a knowing look. "You and I both know you hesitated for a moment there before you so rudely pushed me away."

Malfoy flushed the tiniest bit.

"That's what I thought, Gryffindor," he sneered. "Some bloody genius you are—can't even answer a simple fucking question. Must be the filthy, traitorous, _Death Eater_ blood coming out in you. They were too stupid to know what was good for them, too."

Malfoy raised a hand and slapped him soundly on the cheek. "I am _not_ my grandfather," she hissed with a deadly look before spinning abruptly on her heel and marching away from him without looking back.

* * *

"I hate it when we're fighting," Stella moaned to Aiden as they made their way out of the Great Hall after lunch. "He'll never fucking admit he's wrong. And I have to apologize first, when I didn't even do anything!" she exasperated.

Aiden grinned, shaking his head to himself. "That's James, alright. Bastard to the end."

"It's not funny, Aiden," Stella sniffed, scowling at him in disapproval. But then she sighed heavily in resignation, her shoulders slumping. "I just wish he wasn't so difficult," she said. "He won't even let me date a boy without his permission! Do you realize how humiliating that is?" They reached the Slytherin dungeons, and Stella stepped inside while Aiden followed.

"Well, who could you possibly like that he wouldn't approve of?" he said good-naturedly. "That's not really a big deal, Stell. He feels like he's exercising authority over you, but you're actually given a lot of freedom."

"That's not the point, Aid. James shouldn't be exercising authority over me," Stella pointed out snippily. "He's my brother, not my father." Her expression froze, the reminder of her father clearly upsetting her for a moment before she shook her head and focused back on the topic at hand. "You're not that way with Nay," she went on, referring to Aiden's younger sister, Nayana.

Aiden sighed and stopped, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Nay and I haven't been through the same things that you and James have been through. Just try to remember that your brother can't always see the rational side of things—and it's mostly because he's so damned protective of you. I know that you're always the one apologizing to him, but think about it. Apologizing first doesn't make you weaker." He paused to lean in and kiss her forehead softly. "And besides," he muttered, "you'll never be able to talk about getting some independence unless the two of you are speaking."

Stella looked up at him. "You think?" Her brow furrowed adorably.

Aiden flashed her his trademark lopsided grin and, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, began slowly walking again. "I _know_. But I'd still give him another day or two to come to you," he added mischievously, smiling sidelong at her.

As they reached the stairs for the dormitories, Stella turned in his grasp and gave Aiden a sisterly hug that sent a slight, surprising shiver down his spine. "Thanks, Aid," she sighed, her chin on his shoulder. "You can always make me feel better."

Aiden nodded quickly as she pulled back, not quite able to figure out why her hug had made his heart start beating double-time. "You're just lucky I'm too much of a pansy to ignore a damsel in distress," he teased. "And that I have a soft spot for skinny little brats like you."

"Yeah, well if you weren't so ugly, maybe I'd be more grateful," she laughed back, then pecked him on the cheek. "I'll talk to you later, Aid," she said, then left him at the base of the staircase, watching her mosey upward while refastening her hair in a ponytail.

He shook his head to himself and wandered back into the common room. He'd barely entered when someone jumped at him, and he stumbled back as Laurel Parkinson-Pucey's grip around his neck tightened.

"Aid, I've hardly seen you since school began," she lamented, pulling away and running a hand dramatically through her luxurious banana-yellow tresses. She turned a pout on him, one arm still wrapped around his neck.

"Sorry, Laur, babe," he said distractedly, a hand automatically moving to her waist.

A smug look appeared on Laurel's delicately featured face. "I can forgive you, I think," she said with a low, seductive laugh. "As long as you promise you'll make it up to me."

Aiden smirked down at her. "I'll see what I can do," he said, then did his best to pry her off of him. "Later though, alright, Laurel?"

She scowled, arms folding in front of her. "Make sure you remember," she said, looking pissy as she impatiently ran a hand though her hair.

_Right_, Aiden thought shortly as he walked away, not looking back. He left the dungeons and headed for the library, where he'd left some of his books when he was studying earlier.

"Aiden!" a giggly voice called out, and a second later it was as if a swarm had descended on him. About five fifth-year Ravenclaws had appeared, and Aiden was immediately stifled as they all latched onto him.

"How was your summer?" Calantha Thatcher cooed, clinging to his left elbow and walking alongside him. "Did you get my letters, Aiden?"

"Not now, Calantha," he said with a tight smile, pushing her away and striding faster down the hall.

He heard her harrumph reproachfully to herself, but merely rolled his eyes and continued onward. Couldn't the stupid bints ever leave him alone?

It was unfortunate for the group of Gryffindor third-years he passed next, whom he shot a most terrifying glare before any of them could think about talking to him.

Then, with a heavy sigh he walked into the library and toward the table where he'd left his books. He hadn't planned on staying to study, but the library certainly was a safe haven from dumb shits like his stupid groupies. Aiden reluctantly took a seat and opened up his Charms book, flipping idly through the pages until he reached the chapter for which he was responsible. But he just couldn't fucking concentrate. This Emma thing was getting completely out of hand.

And as if she'd read his mind, the very subject of his thoughts strolled right into the library not five minutes later, along with her brother and Thomas.

Aiden was livid. As if he wasn't already having enough trouble distracting himself from her, she chooses now to bloody wander into the library to hang out with her friends. He glowered at the trio as they took a seat at the table one over from him and pulled out their homework.

_You are better than this, Black_, he growled to himself. _Better than an annoying Gryffindor brat and _certainly_ better than allowing them to infuriate you_.

Aiden took several long breaths in an attempt to calm himself, but already Emma was giggling adorably to her brother about one thing or another and he could feel his blood pressure rising again.

What was the fucking _matter_ with him? Okay, sure, she could be feisty and obviously she was a knockout, but _really_? This was the best he could do?

After several minutes more of twittering from the Gryffindor table, Aiden could no longer contain himself. "You know, Weasley," he said coldly to Emma, "this _is_ a library. As in, a quiet place for people to work. Care to shut the fuck up so I can concentrate?" Maybe it was foolish to address her as such in front of her brother, but Aiden was so frustrated by her, himself, and his stupid fucking emotions that he just couldn't take it anymore. And at this point, he couldn't think of any better way to make his stupid heart understand that she was forbidden than by being especially mean to her.

Both Weasley and Thomas looked about to murder him, but before they could speak, Emma beat them to it. "Is it _really_, Black?" she asked, sounding incredulous. "Why, look at that! I hadn't even bloody _noticed_!"

"Oh, go on," Aiden leered. "I do love a good dose of pathetic Gryffindor sarcasm."

Emma's features had darkened angrily and she had narrowed her eyes at him. "And _I_ love a good dose of disgusting Slytherin superiority," she hissed. "You're vile, Black," she went on contemptibly. "Why don't you pull your head out of your ass and take a look around. Everyone _hates_ you, and those twittering ninnies you've got trailing after you are the worst sort of compliment. So leave us the fuck alone because I'm sorry to say it, love, but everyone's on our side."

Aiden couldn't help the shocked look that appeared on his face at her outburst. Sure, he was used to insults, but that had been a fully prepared—and actually rather painfully accurate—rant.

Emma watched his expression smugly. "That's what I thought," she sneered. She began picking up her books, and motioned Weasley and Thomas to join her. "Come on," she said. "He's a waste of our time."

* * *

Please review! Thanks to those of you who have! xo


	4. Silent Treatment

Chapter Four: Silent Treatment

* * *

Stella sat stewing in first hour. How was it only Wednesday? This week seemed interminable, although maybe that was just because her brother was still refusing to talk to her. And double Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors wasn't exactly her favorite way to begin the day.

Instead of bothering to take notes, she let her gaze wander idly around the room. She could see fucking Aurora Malfoy dutifully copying down an elaborate chart that was on the blackboard from where she sat between her two bodyguards. Merlin, the girl got on her nerves. How the rest of the school failed to see what a know-it-all brat she was was fully beyond Stella. Meanwhile, she had the reputation of being a stuck-up bitch for doing no worse than Malfoy. Bloody Gryffindors. Why did everyone love them so much?

"Stella? Maybe you can tell us the best way to block a stunning spell?"

Stella guiltily looked up at Professor Longbottom, who seemed almost sorry to have caught her daydreaming. "Er…" Stella racked her brain. "_Protego_?" she guessed.

Longbottom tried to hide a small, amused smile. "Excellent. Ten points to Slytherin," he pronounced.

Stella breathed a sigh of relief. She knew most of the Slytherins didn't like Longbottom, but she really couldn't pretend to agree with them. Sure, he was jolly and a former Gryffindor, but he was also kind of a badass. He spent the time he wasn't teaching working as an Auror and had helped her father to defeat Voldemort, and he always had the most interesting lectures. On top of that, he had always been especially kind to Stella in a way that she was continually shocked to find did not annoy her in the least.

"Nice," Aiden sniggered to her quietly just now. "If only I were Longbottom's favorite," he teased.

Stella elbowed him with pretend aggravation, but she was secretly pleased he had chosen to sit with her this lesson, leaving James the back of the classroom and Tommy Flint as a seatmate.

She chanced a glance back at that idiot brother of hers, but he was stubbornly looking toward the front of the classroom, as if he'd known that she would look back at him just at that moment.

Stella turned back around, scowling furiously to hold back the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes. Why did he have to be such a jerk?

* * *

Aurora busied herself with rewriting a chart Professor Longbottom had put on the board, it being the easiest way to feel like she was paying attention while really letting her mind wander over to Liam so she could obsess unnecessarily.

She was absurdly nervous about this upcoming date. But also really, really pleased. Last term, she and Liam had dated rather casually—outings in Hogsmeade and going to the end of school ball together. But she'd been too smitten to imagine anything other than them eventually becoming an official couple, and hadn't initiated any sort of define-the-relationship type of conversation. Summer had come, and instead, they'd pretty much lost touch. Part of her thought he was a giant asshole, but the other part of her was still totally into him and had allowed herself to be convinced by Zoey's and Emma's assurances that he'd just gotten a little commitment-shy.

And in either case, it wasn't like he was some sort of James Potter style player. He was a normal, cute Ravenclaw in the same advanced classes as she was, and had no reputation of being a heartbreaker. Not to mention he'd made the first move now they were back at Hogwarts, and had done so pretty directly and within a week of school starting. That had to bode well, right? Hopefully the date would be wonderful and then she'd be vaguely mature and make him discuss where the relationship was headed this time.

Aurora shook her head a little and tried to focus back on Professor Longbottom. She tuned back in just in time to hear him award Stella Potter points for Slytherin, and rolled her eyes in aggravation. Longbottom was usually fair and if anything partial to Gryffindors, but he seemed to have an inexplicable fondness for Stella Potter. And who in their right mind had a fondness for an icy cold bitch? Aurora pursed her lips bitterly. Only Black and Stella's twin.

At the thought of James Potter, Aurora felt a renewed fury boil up within her. She was still pissed at him—more than usual—after their strange encounter earlier that week. And as if he wasn't enough of a pain in the ass already, she couldn't forget what he'd said about her and her Death Eater blood.

Ever since Voldemort had fallen over ten years ago—at Potter's father's hand, no less—there'd been a distinct shift in the prejudices of the Wizarding world. No one cared one bit about Muggle-borns (especially since Harry Potter had Muggle blood), and the new form of discrimination that had taken root was based on where a family's allegiance had lain during the war. And unfortunately for Aurora's family, her grandfather had been something of a hero among Death Eaters; he'd been locked up in Azkaban ages ago because of it. She really couldn't pretend it wasn't upsetting to be reminded of this fact, and especially by the asshole son of the Chosen One.

Aurora forced herself to take a deep breath and refocus. It wasn't like her to zone out in any class, and especially not Longbottom's. With a resolved look, she turned her attention back to the lecture.

* * *

"Merlin's beard," Aiden groaned in aggravation as he and Stella made their way out of Defense Against the Dark Arts and headed off toward lunch. "That was Longbottom's most boring class since we've been at Hogwarts."

Stella laughed. "Maybe he's been too busy doing Auror stuff to plan anything good," she offered.

"Oh go on, defend the man," Aiden teased, breaking into a grin when he saw the girl blush darkly. "We all know he favors you anyway."

A sheepish look appeared on her face. "That's not true," she protested weakly.

Aiden just grinned. He knew he was giving her shit unnecessarily, but in their lifelong friendship, he'd learned the best way to cheer her up when she was upset was to keep her distracted. And she certainly needed it now, given that she looked about ready to cry every time she caught sight of James.

The pair filed into the Great Hall and Aiden steered Stella to a seat a ways away from her twin, who was surrounded by a posse of admiring seventh-year girls. But the damage was done. Her face had fallen and she was making no move to help herself to lunch.

"Come on, Stell-belle," Aiden said gently. "You've got to eat, love."

Sighing and looking reluctant, she nodded and spooned a small amount of fruit salad onto her plate and grabbed a slice of fresh bread. Aiden rolled his eyes at her food choices, but said nothing. As long as she ate—she had a tendency not to when she was upset—he'd be happy. Aiden watched as Stella picked out the center of her bread and ate it first, then gnawed on the crust before he returned to his own lunch, satisfied.

The two munched on their food in a companionable silence bred by sixteen years of friendship. Aiden allowed his gaze to drift to the Gryffindor table and was unable to stop it from resting the slightest bit too long on Emma Weasley. She constantly had the look of someone wild, both due to her crazy orange waves that gave the impression she'd just woken up and her wide, animated brown eyes. At present, she was speaking to Patil-Creevey and Malfoy, the three looking thick as thieves. Well at least the former two did; Malfoy seemed rather apprehensive. Emma grabbed Malfoy's robe sleeve and jerked on it firmly as if to emphasize a point. What she was trying to convince Malfoy of, Aiden had no idea, but the girl looked positively terrifying. And what, pray, did he find so bloody attractive about that?

Especially when, as her diatribe in the library the other day had proven, she clearly despised him. Those insults had rolled too smoothly off her tongue for them not to have been somewhat premeditated. Emma had obviously spent enough time thinking about how much she loathed him to pinpoint his most infuriating faults—obviously an encouraging sign for any chance of a union between them. _Well_, Aiden thought dryly,_ at least she's been thinking about me._

He shook his head firmly then, disgusted with himself, and reached forward to grab a slice of bread for himself. Stella caught his hand and he looked up, startled. She was staring at him, her green eyes vivid. "Thanks, Aid," she whispered to him, still fixing him with that intense gaze of hers. She didn't need to explain. It was thanks for making her feel better and keeping her company all week. But it was also fully unnecessary. She was his best friend, and he wouldn't think of doing anything else.

Aiden felt an inexplicable shock travel down his spine before he managed to relax into a smile. Their hands still intertwined, he pulled hers up to kiss the back of hers.

"Always," he whispered back.

* * *

James was planning his attack.

His last attempt at wooing Malfoy had certainly not played out how he'd anticipated, although at least he'd been the one in control of that situation. Never mind that she was more furious with him than normal since he'd brought up her family's unfortunate relationship to Lucius Malfoy.

Well, he could do better.

"Potter, I'd really appreciate it if you could at least pretend to be paying attention," came Professor McGonagall's voice from across the room.

James rolled his eyes in annoyance, then when McGonagall had turned back around shot a cold look toward the Gryffindors, who were looking quite gleeful. Malfoy grinned sweetly back at him while Weasley saluted him snidely.

James's fists balled up under the table but years of practice kept any sort of emotion from showing on his face. Instead he fixed a bored look on his face, brows raised mildly, and raised his middle finger at them. Then he picked up his quill to take down a few notes so McGonagall would leave him the hell alone. He glanced up a moment later to see Stella looking back at him, but she quickly turned away and busied herself with her own notes.

James felt his heart wrench a little. She looked downright scared of him. What the fuck was the matter with him? He really should have manned up and apologized by now. But there was that insufferable pride of his, and he really didn't have it in him to say sorry just because he'd reacted to her being annoying.

James shook his head. He was getting off track, anyway. The problem at hand was Malfoy, and how he was going to get close to her. Not only had she seemed uninterested in him, but she had in fact managed to shove him off when he was right up against her. He couldn't think of another girl who'd ever reacted that way when he was making an advance. And frankly, it was pretty embarrassing. Who the fuck did Malfoy think she was anyway? He was going to break through those defenses if it took him all year, and he was going to get back at the wench.

* * *

It was really fucking hard to pretend nothing had changed between him and Zoey. Even sitting next to one another at dinner that evening, gobbling down their food in the least sexy sort of encounter, Marcus could only think of finding a way to get her alone…and naked.

It didn't help that she was finding subtle ways to touch him without looking out of the ordinary. Whether pretending she needed to borrow his quill so she could brush her fingers against his or running a hand across his lower back when she squeezed out of her seat in Transfiguration to head to the washroom, she'd been building up his desire all day long. And it was awful. Awful enough to make him rethink if it wouldn't just be easier to come clean to everyone about them.

Presently, Zoey reached down to rearrange the napkin on her lap and brushed his thigh softly before returning her hands to the table.

Merlin. This was torture.

Mercifully, Dumbledore stood up, looking like he had some announcements to share that would at least distract Marcus for a few minutes.

"May I have your attention please!" called Dumbledore over the din, and immediately the hall fell silent. "It has come to my attention that some students have petitioned for more social events to be added to our calendar this year. So we are going to be adding another formal gathering to the schedule." The entire hall broke into applause, and several loud whistles sang out. Dumbledore beamed and waited for the crowd to settle once more before continuing. "In addition to the yearly Yule Ball at Christmastime and our joint formal with the Orenda Babcock Academy students after the annual Quidditch match-up, we are going to be having a Halloween Dance, to take place on Friday, Halloween night. Costumes are strongly encouraged, and as always, the dance is open only to fourth-years and up, unless an upperclassman chooses to invite a younger student." The hall once more erupted into raucous approval.

"Who you going to ask to the Halloween Dance then, Thomas? Still with Clem or you trading up?" Marcus asked before Sam could question him about the same.

Sam let out a hearty laugh. He had never experienced a shortage of girls climbing over each other to date him. Between his Quidditch star status, flirting expertise, and distinctive mocha-colored skin and celery eyes, he was easily one of Hogwarts's most eligible bachelors. "Still with Clem for now," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "How about you, mate?"

Emma chose that inopportune point to enter the conversation. "Yeah, big brother, who you going to take?" she asked curiously, leaning over from Sam's other side where she had been chatting with Aurora.

Marcus cringed internally. He'd been hoping that by asking about Sam, he'd create enough of a distraction to prevent anyone from posing this very question, and now all he'd done was put himself on the spot for all to see. "Not sure," he said tightly.

Sam chuckled. "No scarcity of lovely girls," he said. "But you better decide quickly before the best ones are all snatched up."

Emma nodded emphatically, some tendrils of hair spilling out of the loose knot on the top of her head. "Don't you come to me last minute asking me to make one of my friends go with you," she warned. "Nina's already in high demand, you brat."

Marcus smiled wryly. "No worries, Em," he laughed, rolling his eyes. "I take full responsibility for my own date. You all going to go in costume?" he went on, trying to take the focus off of himself.

"Sounds rather corny," Sam said, making a face.

"I think we should!" Zoey put in, looking excited. "Maybe all in the same theme so we don't look like prats, though."

Marcus rolled his eyes affectionately.

Sam was shaking his head. "We are not going as the cast of some stupid play or anything," he insisted.

Zoey laughed. "In couples, then."

Sam grinned. "I'd love to see you convince some bloke to dress up with you, Zo."

She stuck a tongue out at him. "Piece of cake," she quipped, winking at Marcus when no one was looking.

Marcus groaned to himself. How was it she was so damned cute?

"I'll do it, Zo," he spoke up, unable to help himself, and trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He just really didn't love the idea of her having to go with another guy just so they could keep their relationship under wraps. "Save me the trouble of finding a date if I go with a friend, you know."

Zoey's eyes were sparkling with the held-back secret. "You don't think I want a date who will snog me, Weasley?" she teased, her nose wrinkling up. She made a show of sizing him up then said, "Yeah alright, I'll go with you. You're wearing whatever I say."

Marcus didn't even cringe. He was so into her that it didn't even fucking matter. And it was wonderful.

* * *

"Bloody fantastic," Stella grumbled while the rest of the Great Hall broke into applause at Dumbledore's announcement of another dance being added to the calendar. Another opportunity for her to feel like a nerd who scared boys away.

Aiden grinned wryly beside her. He was so good to her; he'd spent the entire day by her side, trusting James to be fine with Tommy and the others. "Stells, you know you'll have blokes lining up."

"Hah!" Stella snorted, just managing to swallow her sip of pumpkin juice before she spat it out. "They're all terrified of me. And James."

She scrunched up her face, determined not to let the thought of her brother get her down.

"So ask someone," Aiden suggested. "Ask a Gryffindor if you're scared they'll say no," he added with a snigger. "What a sad lot."

Stella punched his arm. "Are you trying to say I can only get a desperate loser to go with me?" she huffed.

"No way," he laughed. "You're the one who said boys are scared to go with you. Well, Gryffindors are the brave ones, aren't they? Take poor Weasley, you'll be the best he's ever had."

Stella elbowed him, but couldn't keep from laughing. They both knew Weasley wasn't lacking in the hot girlfriend department, but she appreciated the compliment anyway. "Thanks, Aid," she said dryly.

He shot her a cocky grin that made her stomach do an unexpected somersault.

"Who you going to ask, then?" she asked, hoping the subject change would make the hot flush that had accompanied her stomach backflips recede.

Aiden shrugged, but she noticed he looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Who knows. I guess Laurel unless I find someone better."

Stella looked at him skeptically. Since when did he settle on Laurel instead of pursuing another new, hot conquest? Now she thought about it, he really hadn't done any pursuing all year long. She eyed him sidelong. Had he fallen for someone?

But instead of bugging him about it, Stella kept quiet. Last thing she needed was to alienate her only friend, and after all he'd done for her, she owed it to him to let it go. "Nisha Singh's gotten so pretty," she offered helpfully, naming one of the nicer Ravenclaw beauties.

Aiden broke into his normal sideways grin, all trace of discomfort gone. "Looking out for me, are you?" he said, grabbing her and tickling her side briefly. "I've taught you well, love."

Stella squirmed out of his reach, escaping just soon enough to keep a squawk of laughter down. She grinned at him. "Yup. Your ugly head's too dumb to pick out the good ones," she teased, rapping him on the side of the head.

Aiden rolled his eyes and pulled her over to him again, kissing her forehead affectionately. "Thanks, Spots," he murmured against her hair, and with both the action and his usage of his special nickname for Stella, she felt a tingle of electricity run through her, causing her heartbeat to speed up.

She scowled to herself, head rested on Aiden's collarbone where he couldn't see her expression. What the fuck was going on with her?

* * *

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	5. Dates, Disputes, Disaster

Chapter Five: Dates, Disputes, Disaster

* * *

Aurora stepped back and, looking in the mirror, inspected the delicate makeup Zoey'd just applied, her stomach flip-flopping with a combination of nerves and anticipation. It was Saturday, the week having passed quickly due to an immense workload, and Liam was set to meet her in half an hour so they could have dinner together in Hogsmeade.

"Gorgeous," Zoey pronounced, reaching over to grab a brush then dragging it through Aurora's long, pale hair. "And I want your fucking hair. Have I mentioned that?"

Aurora smiled. "Only about a hundred times," she teased, but she was grateful all the same. Zoey knew when she needed extra reassurance, and whining about Aurora's hair was generally her favorite way of providing it.

"Well I do. It's going on 15 years, my romance with your hair." Zoey tucked some stray strands behind Aurora's ear, then stood back, nodding in approval.

"Thanks, Zo," Aurora said gratefully, eyeing her new look. She certainly could never do makeup this well. "You really have to teach me to do this on my own one day. Are you headed to Hogsmeade with Marcus and Sam?"

Zoey flushed for some reason, then started rifling through her makeup bag distractedly. "Yeah, not sure," she said, shrugging, then extracted her mascara and busied herself by applying it. "Probably?"

Aurora raised a brow, but didn't take Zoey's strange reaction too personally. She'd been known to be far weirder, in fact. Taking a deep breath, Aurora stepped out into the bedroom. "I'm going to go meet Liam, okay?"

"Have fun!" Zoey called back, waving her off with her free hand.

Aurora reached the hall outside Gryffindor Tower and clasped her hands together nervously. This time around just had to work out better than last year's attempt. She'd spent ages analyzing what she might have done wrong to scare Liam off last time, but the fact that he'd come back around offered a whole lot of credibility to Zoey and Emma's theory that he'd just lost track of her because of the distance and the general flakiness of sixteen-year-old guys.

So maybe there was hope for them after all. Either way, after being the class nerd for five years while her best friends had dates aplenty, it was reassuring to know she had someone interested in her enough to pursue her for this long. Aurora's mother had certainly ended up alright despite her obsession with the library; in fact, her parents' courtship was super romantic. The arrogant prat turned sweet because of the woman he loved. Aurora would hardly believe her father had ever been so conceited and nasty, but for his dashing good looks and the rather haughty side that revealed itself when he was around people he hated.

Glancing at her wristwatch, Aurora saw it was a quarter of six. Liam wouldn't be around for another fifteen minutes, but she was too anxious to go back and sit in the common room. No sooner had she decided to stay in the hallway outside Gryffindor Tower than did fucking James Potter come into view.

_Just my bloody luck_, she thought angrily. _Why the hell did you mention having a date, Malfoy?_

"You look stunning, Malfoy," Potter said, whistling appreciatively. "Who knew that was buried beneath the books and attitude, eh?"

"Fuck off, Potter," Aurora snapped, looking the other way in search of Liam even as a faint, angry flush crept into her cheeks.

"Language, Malfoy. What would the teachers say if they heard their pet was so foul-mouthed!" Potter exclaimed, feigning outrage and pulling her thoughts back to the present. Merlin, he was annoying.

Aurora ignored him, but her mind was racing. What was up with Potter's sudden interest in her, anyway? First his strange come on last week outside the library, and now wandering around Gryffindor turf the evening she was going on her date? It didn't add up at all.

Potter came close to her, frowning slightly. Aurora could smell his aftershave and was horrified to feel the tiniest twinge of desire stir inside her.

_Don't you _dare_, Malfoy_, a voice in her head warned. _He's not really interested and could care less about you. __Just because he's fucking gorgeous…_

Ugh, _no_. Unlike the rest of the female population at Hogwarts, Aurora had never been the slightest bit taken in by Potter's charm and cocky smirk, and Merlin help her, she wasn't about to start _now_.

"Malfoy?" Aurora whipped her head up to see him coming closer. She scowled determinedly.

"Get away from me, Potter!" she exclaimed, shoving his chest forcefully. "What's your new fascination with me, anyway? And what are you doing on Gryffindor turf? Doesn't your sort of scum usually like to lurk around the dungeons?" She glowered at him, eyes blazing as folded her arms protectively in front of her. She was _not_ going to let Potter do this to her.

"Oh, give me a fucking break, Malfoy," Potter snapped, sounding irritated, but she could see a rage boiling up in his emerald eyes. "Can't you do any better than that? You've been using the same damn lines since first year. I think I understand by now that you think all Slytherins are rats with nothing better to do than hang around our _murky_ dorm. Don't tell me that's the best the top student in the year can come up with. You're boring me to fucking _death_."

Aurora's cheeks had been paling steadily as he spoke, but with his last words, two angry red spots appeared abruptly on her cheeks.

"I don't know why you think it's your right to speak to me like that," she hissed hotly, leaning in so close that their noses were mere centimeters apart. "You've shown me nothing but looks, behavior, and temperament befitting that of a sleazy, slimy, flea-infested _rodent_. And obviously that message has yet to sink into the thick skull protecting your sorry excuse for a brain, because _nothing's changed_."

Without warning, and before Aurora could even catch her breath after her outburst, Potter closed the distance between them, grabbed her head in both his hands, and crashed his lips against hers. "Now, _that's_ what I'm talking about, Malfoy," he murmured against her mouth. "Sexy as hell."

But Aurora would have none of this. The kiss didn't last two seconds before she was wrenching him off of her and shrieking, "What is the fucking _matter_ with you, Potter?" She wiped her lips off on the back of her hand with a look of disgust. "What makes you think you've got _any_ right to come near me, let alone _kiss me_?" She blinked furiously, trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on. How _dare_ he…he had some bloody nerve to come to Gryffindor turf and violate her like this.

"Oh, come off it," Potter was saying, his tone light but his eyes clearly betraying both fury and affront at her reaction. "Surely you've noticed what a cute little thing you are. How am I supposed to resist?"

The idea of attracting Potter's eye based solely on looks was not only improbable, it was ludicrous. He hated her personality too damn much to look past it so easily.

Aurora stared coldly at him, taking in his forced half-smirk, which he evidently thought would make her swoon. "Stay the hell away from me, Potter," she warned him in a low, deadly voice, her gaze murderous.

This didn't have the intended effect, as Potter merely came close to her once more. She raised a hand threateningly, ready to slap him if he dared kiss her again, but Potter put his lips up against her ear. "Sure thing, Malfoy," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. "But ask yourself this: can you stay away from me?"

And before she could respond—preferably with violence—Potter had backed away and was disappearing down the hallway.

Fists still clenched, Aurora watched his retreating back furiously. _I guess he thinks I'd be some sort of hilarious conquest. Such great entertainment to mock the Gryffindor Princess's utter lack of sexual experience_, she thought angrily. Aurora forced herself to take a few deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm herself, but she was still seething.

Well. Maybe he'd targeted her but she was damn well not going to be Potter's next victim. She was stronger than that. She was going to be the one girl he never had.

* * *

"He's still ignoring me," Stella growled as she, Aiden, and several other Slytherins made their way to Hogsmeade. "He's going to dinner with McLaggen, just so he's not with me. "

Aiden looked over at her, unsure of what to say. It had been a week of this, and he had to admit he was running out of ways to comfort her. What she needed was for her jackass brother to get a fucking clue and apologize, and that clearly wasn't about to happen.

Aiden kicked at a rock in the dirt as they continued walking. How James could be so fully unaffected by this fight, while Stella alternated between tears and fury, was beyond him. His best friend was being a fucking idiot. True, James was naturally less emotional than Stella, and he obviously had his temper and his pride to get past before he would think about missing her enough to apologize. And it didn't hurt that he had school, Quidditch, cheap sex, and now this bet to keep him distracted. So yes, perhaps Aiden could understand James's actions, or rather lack thereof. But that didn't make him happy about it.

Meanwhile, Stella glared stormily around as they made their way toward Honeyduke's. But the line outside the shop was so intimidating, that they continued toward a small ledge, where the pair, along with Tommy Flint, Zane Nadif, and Dom Fletcher, perched themselves to wait for the queue to shorten. "I mean, what kind of a brother _does_ that? I must really be the world's worst sister, to drive him to acting that way," she muttered, running a hand agitatedly through her raven hair.

Aiden shook his head to himself. _James, you idiot, you're killing her_, he thought angrily as he considered Stella's statement. As usual, she had pinned the blame on herself, without it ever occurring to her that this fight between the two was James's fault. Even if he had snapped at her, she had the endearing, yet, on occasion, maddeningly frustrating, habit of somehow thinking that she always deserved anything that James said when he let his temper get the better of him. Which was, in fact, most often _not_ the case.

"Come on, Stell," he said softly, nudging her shoulder with his own. "Lighten up. His loss if he has to spend a whole evening with that slut. Come on," he said lightly, "smile." With a finger, he pushed one side of her mouth up into a reluctant smile. "There," he teased. "Dazzling smile."

Stella broke into a grin at last, and her rare, glowing smile made Aiden's heartbeat quicken for some reason. He forced himself to ignore it. "Stop making fun of me," Stella pouted, swatting him away playfully while her smile widened.

Aiden let his own signature lopsided grin creep onto his face, unable to help himself. "Oh, I have far too much fun doing that to ever stop," he sniggered, his arm reaching over to tickle her side opposite him.

"Aid!" was all she could get out before she erupted into shrieking giggles as Aiden, smirking ever harder, continued his assault.

"Aiden _Black_!" she screeched, trying desperately to sock him in the shoulder, but losing all hope of putting up a good fight as her punches merely brushed him harmlessly. "You stupid fucking git, let _go_!"

Aiden couldn't stop grinning. Stella had always had an unnatural intolerance to tickling—the slightest touch could send her kicking and screaming to the floor. It was only because his other arm supported her back that she didn't fall straight back behind the ledge that very moment.

_At least she's always been a good sport about it_, Aiden thought with a smirk. If she'd been a crybaby, his fun would have ended years ago. It was his best weapon against her overly developed smart-ass mouth.

Stella finally managed to twist his arms so he couldn't touch her, and, breathing hard, she shot him the death glare that had driven many of her female (and male) peers to the lavatories in tears. But Aiden just put his face right up in hers and smirked at her, one brow quirking upward because he knew that expression was the surest way to piss her off fast.

"Next time you do that," she panted, "I swear to Merlin I'll fucking castrate you."

"My dear, you'd do anything if it involved fucking me. Flattered as I am to be the subject of your raging sexual fantasies, I'd have to say the only way I'd ever let my best mate's sister near the goods would be if you looked a great deal like Professor Burke."

Stella's cheeks flamed, but she continued to glower at him. "In your _dreams_ would I come near you voluntarily," she snapped, unreasonably touchy as she wrinkled her nose at him. "You're too bloody repulsive to even consider it," she spat, eyes ablaze. "Not to mention I don't mix my friends and hypothetical lovers," she sniffed, seeming the slightest bit calmer. "And what in Merlin's name is with every boy's obsession with Professor Burke?"

"Ah, you two, stop flirting," Flint broke in with a snigger. "James wouldn't take it very well."

"Half the school already thinks they're dating anyway," Fletcher said with a chuckle. The others laughed, but both Stella and Aiden froze for a moment before Aiden recovered and shook his head.

"Professor Tabitha Burke is the hottest female—witch or otherwise—I've ever met," Aiden went on, pretending Flint and Fletcher had never spoken, "period. The woman teaches _Muggle Studies_, wears robes about three sizes too big, and _still_ every guy in school—professors included—would give his right arm to bag her. She's the only reason any student takes that class. And she's only twenty, fresh out of school. If _she_ were James's twin, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'd jump her."

His voice sounded natural, but Aiden's heart was thumping quickly at the boys' comments. To say James wouldn't take the idea of them being involved well was a vast understatement. James would have beaten him up at very least. Disembowelment was more likely. Which was why Aiden had always worked so hard to maintain a siblingly relationship with the girl, and never dared dwell on the fact that she'd grown into a rather lovely—if pain-in-the-ass—young woman. And he certainly had paid enough attention to other females for the entirety of his time at Hogwarts…so what the fuck were they going on about? Surely the gossip around school wasn't actually that he and Stella were together, was it? Well at least he'd thoroughly rejected the idiotic notion just now for Flint, Nadif, and Fletcher to see and spread around.

"You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself, don't you, Black," Stella grunted, apparently less impressed by the idea of them dating than Aiden had been. "I never understood before, but now it's suddenly astonishingly clear how you get all those girlfriends. Your talent for flattery is truly unequaled."

Aiden couldn't help but relax into his usual lopsided grin. "Stuff it, Stells," he said fondly, putting an arm around her shoulders and pressing his lips to her temple in a quick kiss. "You know I love you more than all them combined."

With that, Stella seemed reassured, and she smiled before turning forward to stare at all the passersby.

Aiden paused for a moment to study her profile. He wasn't sure why he'd chosen those exact words to reassure her, but he was pleased to note Stella didn't seem too affected by the idea of him loving her by such an immense measure. But either way, that had been stupid of him.

"Anyone up for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?" he finally asked after several minutes of silence, eager to distract himself. He didn't know why he was suddenly getting so fixated on this idea of he and Stella being an item, but it had to stop right fucking now.

"Sure," Stella said agreeably, clearly unaware of his internal struggle.

"I'm going to have to pass," Flint said. "I want to go check out Zonko's."

"Yeah," Nadif and Fletcher agreed.

"They may have those new Insta-sick Sweets," Nadif offered in explanation. Then the three boys headed off, leaving Stella and Aiden alone.

"Well, how very rude of them. What do you say, Miss Stella Rose?" Aiden drawled playfully. "Still up for a drink?"

"As long as you're paying."

Aiden laughed. "I don't know why, but sometimes I'm surprised by how similar you and James are," he said, rolling his eyes a little and regarding her fondly.

Stella's face dropped, and Aiden suddenly wanted to kick himself for being so stupid and bringing up James, when he'd just worked so hard to distract Stella from the fight. He'd gotten preoccupied with his own shit and forgotten all about the actual issue at hand—James being a bloody prat.

"Come on," he said firmly, wrapping an arm around Stella's waist and leading her to the pub. They sat down at a small table by a window, and Aiden ordered a butterbeer for each of them.

"So," Aiden began as soon as the waiter had left, trying to figure out a new way to get Stella's thoughts away from James. "Feels weird when it's just the two of us, doesn't it?" His trademark grin appeared on his face.

Stella's cheeks tinged pink unexpectedly, and Aiden cocked a brow at her, although she didn't appear to notice. "Uh, yeah, it does," she stammered, turning her head to avoid Aiden's icy blue gaze.

Aiden chuckled at her obvious unease, as it offered a nice diversion from his own. "What's up?" he asked kindly. "Is it James?"

Stella shook her head, glossy black hair flying around. Her emerald eyes finally met his. "It's nothing," she said evasively.

Aiden frowned in concern, wondering at that particular ability she had to completely change her mood in an instant, but nodded. "You know you can talk to me whenever you need to, Stell, right?" he assured her.

Stella smiled, her eyes brightening, and grabbed his hand that was resting on the table. Squeezing his hand gently, she said, "Thanks, Aid. I really appreciate it."

Aiden flashed his lopsided grin, trying to ignore the chill that had run down his spine. "What do you think I'm here for?"

Stella smiled back hesitantly, biting her lip. "Bloody arrogant prat," she muttered at last, rolling her eyes. Both laughed, then, as they became aware that they were still holding hands, broke apart immediately, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Luckily their drinks arrived in that moment, and Aiden was able to hide his inexplicably flushed cheeks by lifting up the mug and taking a great swig of the rich liquid.

When he returned the mug to the table, Stella looked somewhat more relaxed and was twirling a strand of hair idly around her index finger.

Aiden had to hide a smile. She really could be adorable sometimes.

But just then, the door of the pub opened again, and who should walk in but Emma Weasley. And she wasn't alone. Instead of tagging along with her brother and his buddies, she walked in with the new Gryffindor exchange student, Nolen van der Spek. The one half the school was hot for. Merlin, what had Aiden done to deserve this? Like he wasn't already having an exhausting fucking evening sorting out Stella's emotions and his own, now Emma had to come around and screw it all up some more. Not to mention it was just his bloody luck to fall for the one Gryffindor that his fucking competition had singled out from the rest.

Perfect. Just bloody perfect.

In typical Emma fashion, her hair was a wavy mess, but the flaming orange contrasted stunningly with the summer tan that lingered on her freckled skin. She consistently seemed to put absolutely no effort into her appearance, yet always looked more compellingly beautiful than the rest of the female population at Hogwarts. And clearly van der Spek thought so too.

Aiden felt his jaw tighten as he watched van der Spek lean over to whisper something in her ear, and his heart clenched painfully when Emma burst out laughing.

Stella had followed his gaze, and her expression was rapidly darkening. "So she's already scored with the new kid?" she sneered derisively. "What a total tramp."

Aiden forced out a snigger of agreement. "Typical," he added for good measure. He saw the pair sit at a table, oblivious to all else around them as they chatted like they'd known each other for ages. Aiden could feel his anger and jealousy rising uncontrollably, and turned to Stella in hopes of distraction, but she too seemed oddly transfixed by the couple.

"Come on, Stell," he said abruptly, and she turned to look at him. Aiden jerked his head toward the door. "You want to get out of here?"

* * *

Aurora's heart was beating a mile a minute as Liam led her into a cute little bistro, and not just because she was anxious to be alone with him for the first time since their dating hiatus. Even from afar, Potter was now weighing heavily on her mind, and she didn't like it one bit. _Stupid, arrogant git_, she thought hotly, recalling their brief kiss with flaming cheeks. _Thinks he can just act however he wants, whenever he wants…_

Nonetheless, Aurora had to at least give Liam credit for his choice of venue: this was a lot more comfortable an environment than some of the fancy places she'd heard all the Hogwarts couples talk about, and it was helping to put her slightly more at ease. Zoey was always whining when another unimaginative boy took her to Sorcerer's Crystal, just to impress her with the expensive menu. So there was that.

"Hmm, so what looks good?" Liam asked after they'd been seated, straightening his glasses and peering closer at the menu.

"I was eyeing the salmon dish and that eggplant-y thing," Aurora said, glancing up at him and trying to smile as naturally as possible. She couldn't help it. He was adorable, and she was fucking _nervous_. Not to mention she felt like some sort of two-timer, going out on a date with this poor wonderful guy who had no idea she's just been kissed by James Potter.

Liam laughed. "Me too! Eggplant-y thing especially," he said teasingly. "You want to maybe get both and split them?"

Aurora felt her heart jump a bit with his gaze focused on her so intently, but it was so gentle and genuine that she actually began to relax a little. She nodded. "That sounds perfect. I was having trouble deciding," she grinned.

"Settled, then," he said happily, stacking up their menus on the edge of the table just as a waiter came up to them, took their orders, then returned to the kitchens.

Liam turned back to her and leaned forward. "So tell me how's life been treating you," he said, his hazel eyes fixing on hers again.

Aurora shrugged, smiling. "Oh, just fine," she replied rather evasively. _Just kissing Potter_, she thought guiltily, feeling her face heat up once again and hoping she didn't look as red as she felt. She made a greater effort to push thoughts of Potter from her head. "Haven't been up to much, really," she went on brightly.

"Except leaving Black in your academic dust," Liam laughed, but his tone was light-hearted and teasing, not snide in the least.

Aurora grinned back, with only a trace of sheepishness. Good to know he wasn't turned off by her study habits. "We've hardly gotten any grades back," she protested modestly, then changed the subject to Quidditch. "How have the Ravenclaw tryouts been?" she asked. "Gryffindor's really excited about this year's team."

"Really wonderful, actually…although I don't know if I should be talking about this with the enemy," he said teasingly, his eyes squinting slightly behind his stylish tortoise frames as he smiled broadly.

Aurora chuckled. "Fair enough," she replied. "But I promise I'm useless with strategy. My poor father's still devastated. All I can do is catch a Snitch."

"I'm only joking," Liam said, laughing. "And strategy or not, you do catch that ball damn well. Ravenclaw's got a really solid new Keeper. And my sister's actually joining as a Beater…she's absurd. I don't know how she got to be so much better than my brother and me."

"Oh, I'd say you're pretty stiff competition yourself," Aurora said, remembering the last game they'd played against Ravenclaw. Gryffindor had won, but Liam beaten Aurora by an inch to catch the Snitch. In fact, the only reason she remembered was because she had been royally pissed—it had been a bit before she and Liam had started up, and she'd barely known him then. "What year's your sister?"

"That's just it—she's only a third-year," he laughed. "At this rate, she'll end up in the professional league."

Aurora raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"I take it you had pretty successful trials then?" Liam asked.

She nodded and proceeded to fill him in on the tryouts, and before she knew it, their food was being set in front of them.

"Here you are," the waiter said, placing their dishes down.

Liam held out one of the plates so Aurora could place a portion in front of her, then served himself before doing the same with their second shared entrée.

"Mmm," Aurora said, tasting a bit of salmon.

Liam nodded his agreement, adorably pushing his glasses back up again. They made him look so dorky and sexy all at once.

"Well, well, Malfoy," a loud voice said from behind Aurora, "we meet again."

Potter's unmistakable voice made Aurora cringe before she turned in her chair to face him, a scowl set on her face. As she met his eyes, all she could think of was their fleeting kiss less than an hour ago. Her cheeks were reddening in fury.

"So it would seem, Potter," she said icily. "If you'll excuse us, we're eati—"

"Owens," Potter said with a slight sneer, "how've you been?"

Aurora glowered at him. Couldn't the idiot take a bloody hint? He was obviously unwelcome. Bloody conceited jackass.

Liam shrugged, frowning slightly. "Not bad," he said, looking faintly baffled.

"Well, we'd better take our seats," Potter said with a confident smirk. "Nice to see you, Owens, although I don't think much of the company you keep."

Liam opened his mouth to respond, but Potter was gone as quickly as he'd come. Aurora glared after him. Why did the bastard feel the need to ruin everything? How on earth was she supposed to relax and enjoy herself for the rest of dinner if he was just across the room? He'd been monopolizing her thoughts before he'd even arrived, and now it was just about to get worse.

"He's _such_ an annoying prick," she said irritably.

Liam frowned, nodding his agreement. They both ate their food then, but Aurora was on edge the entire time, able to sense Potter's eyes on her from where he sat nearby with an older Slytherin girl whose name Aurora didn't know.

"Do you want to go for a walk or something?" she asked after a while, eager to escape.

Liam cheered visibly. "Sure," he said, then called for the bill.

* * *

"And I really think you made the right decision in choosing Zane for Chaser," Anna McLaggen was saying while James made only the feeblest efforts at pretending he was paying attention. He was actually looking off into space, but the girl didn't seem to ever consider the possibility that he wasn't listening; she continued on in full force, somehow having gotten herself on the topic of Quidditch, and was clearly so desperate to get him out of his pants that she wasn't even bringing up the fact that he'd cut her from the team. "I _know_ Naomi was rooting for Fletcher, but I think your decision to go with Zane showed far more foresight," she went on, sniffing.

Ah, the old bashing of the competition. Apparently she'd picked out Holloway as the other girl James was eyeing.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned back to his date. "He's much more agile," he offered weakly, but he groaned inwardly. Why, oh why, had he asked McLaggen out?

_So you could avoid Stella_, a voice in his head said. _And so you could spy on Malfoy._

James grimaced. At this point, he'd rather spend the day with Malfoy and her best buddies then be with McLaggen right now. It wasn't that the girl was so stupid or annoying; he was used to that, and normally was too distracted by lust to notice or care. It was just that tonight he was so utterly unenthusiastic that not even her attractiveness and figure-hugging clothes could get him excited about being there. Which was completely out of character, because since when had he ever been on a date that wasn't based primarily on the girl's sex appeal? Usually dinner wasn't an obstacle like this, because _usually_, he was so bloody eager to rip the girl's clothes off he enjoyed any time spent with her.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ James thought in bewilderment. _I _always_ go for girls like McLaggen. Why should this date be any different?_

_Because you're too busy worrying about how much you hurt Stella_, he answered himself, shaking his head bitterly. He reluctantly forced himself to tune back into McLaggen.

"So then, she said she'd never speak to Aiden again," she was saying brightly, not noticing James's downright bored expression. "Can you believe that? Laurel can't keep her _hands_ off of Aiden Black, let alone stop speaking to him! She's _so_ full of it."

"Uh, yeah," he muttered half-heartedly. "Pucey doesn't have to talk to him to screw him, though," he added with a snigger after seeing her slightly crestfallen expression. She immediately smiled.

With an annoyed sigh, James then let his gaze drift instead toward Malfoy. He scowled to see that she and Owens had their heads together, their meals half-eaten, and both were grinning like escaped mental ward patients. His expression darkened further when saw the pair get up to leave, hand-in-hand. Disgusting. Bloody disgusting.

"Of course," McLaggen's voice rang out smugly, "I'm sure she's having a harder time of it now that Aiden seems to be taken…"

James looked up rather hazily, having listened to so little of the conversation that he wasn't sure he'd heard right. "Aiden…taken?" he said, baffled.

McLaggen leaned forward eagerly, looking pleased to have his full attention at last. "Well yes, isn't that it? Why he hasn't been dating anyone? Because he's dating your twin?"

James was so taken aback that he actually jumped out of his seat. "_What_?" he hissed, grabbing McLaggen's arm so roughly that she looked quite frightened. "_Where did you hear that_?"

McLaggen's eyes were huge. "Nowhere," she said quickly, still wide-eyed with fear. "It—it's just some gossip I heard. No one's been able to figure out who he's seeing right now so we thought—"

"Well you thought _wrong_," James spat violently as he thumped back into his seat to avoid the stares of all the people dining around him. But it couldn't be true, could it? One week of not talking to Stella and he'd driven her into Aiden's arms…and bed?

"Listen, James," McLaggen said meekly, "I'm sure I've got it wrong. I mean they obviously would have told you; must just be Aiden's not dating anyone right now…"

"You're _damn right_, they would have told me!" he hissed at her, his eyes flashing dangerously and his fury mounting. "Don't you think I'd know if my best friend were dating my _sister_?"

James felt like he was in a fog; such was his rage. He glared murderously at the other restaurant patrons who were daring to peer at him curiously. But gradually, with deep breaths and some vague mumblings of sense from McLaggen, he began to calm.

"Clearly you'd know," she was now saying pleadingly. "Forget I mentioned it…let's just get out of here, okay?"

James nodded slowly. Of course they weren't together. He'd certainly know about it if they were, not to mention they surely wouldn't dare to do such a thing behind his back.

But James did know one thing for certain…he needed to get his sister to forgive him.

"Yeah, let's go," James said, standing abruptly and barely resisting the urge to dash out of the restaurant without her.

McLaggen nodded and quickly stood as well while James dropped several Galleons on the table. James led the way toward the main square, where he was relieved to run into several Slytherins.

Flint, Nadif, and Fletcher all nodded a greeting to him and McLaggen.

"Have either of you seen my sister?" James asked brusquely.

Nadif shook his head. "She was with us, but then she and Aiden went for a drink in the Three Broomsticks. I'm sure they're heading back to the castle by now."

James nodded. "Thanks," he said, as if to dismiss them then turned to McLaggen, mustering what charm he could as he faced her. "Would you mind too much if we headed back now? I'll make it up to you, I promise. I just have to clear something up with my sister."

McLaggen looked at him warily. She was clearly worried that he was about to go demand to know if Stella were really dating Aiden, and not eager to be responsible for putting the idea in his head.

"We're just in a fight," James said impatiently. "I've got to get it sorted out."

"Alright," she sighed, and the pair began making their way out of the village.

* * *

"This fountain is gorgeous!" Aurora exclaimed as, wandering hand-in-hand through the village, she and Liam neared an intricately carved fountain in a quieter part of town. "I'm surprised I've never seen it before."

Liam nodded beside her. "It's beautiful," he agreed. He dug in his pocket then pulled out two Knuts. "Make a wish," he grinned, handing her a coin.

_How ridiculously cute and romantic is he?_ a voice in Aurora's head screeched. They were _totally_ on track to start seeing each other for real. And better yet, the lingering thoughts of Potter were becoming less and less persistent as she relaxed into the date. Aurora tossed in the coin after Liam, and turned to face him.

"What did you wish for?" she asked.

He smiled secretively. "If you tell a wish, it won't come true," he teased.

She laughed. "Well, fine, then," she huffed with feigned indignation.

"I'll give you a hint," Liam offered, tilting her face toward his with a finger on her chin.

Aurora's heartbeat sped up. "What kind of hint?" she asked hoarsely.

Liam leaned closer. "Got any ideas yet?" he whispered.

Aurora shook her head wordlessly.

"Guess I'd better show you then."

With that, Liam closed the distance between them and kissed her gently.

* * *

"Black!"

Both Stella and Aiden stopped, Stella setting a well-practiced glare on her face at the sound of her brother's voice before she had even turned around. What did that inconsiderate jackass want with her now? Aiden had helped put her in such a good mood, and now James was going to come and ruin it. This was absolutely not the way she wanted to end the day.

"Yeah?" Aiden called to him.

James jogged up to them, McLaggen trailing behind him. "Could I talk with my sister for a minute?" he asked, nodding toward Stella. She glowered at him, her arms folded tightly across her chest, but felt slight trepidation when she noticed that James didn't look quite so pleased himself. This certainly wasn't him coming to apologize—this was him coming to pick on her for something else.

Aiden looked between the two before nodding. "McLaggen," he said smoothly, taking the girl's arm. "Walk through the park with me?"

McLaggen raised an eyebrow but agreed. After all, if James Potter was otherwise engaged, being with Aiden Black was just as good. The two strolled off in the direction of the park.

"What do you want?" Stella asked coldly.

James rolled his eyes. "As if you have any reason to be angry with me," he said shortly, his eyes blazing with held back anger.

Stella snorted. "_Right_," she drawled, not caring if she got on his wrong side again. "Pretty sure I _do_." _Who gives a shit—he's already mad at me_, she thought recklessly. _What've I got to lose?_

"You're the one who's so damned paranoid," James snapped, his green eyes flashing. "It's about time someone told you how annoying you are."

"But it won't sink in _your_ thick skull that you're an arrogant jerk?" she said hotly. She knew her words would set off his temper; she bit her lip immediately after she'd said them, wishing she could have just kept her bloody mouth shut.

As predicted, James glared daggers at her. "Why don't you shut the _fuck_ up about me, Stella? You are so fucking _stupid_. We're talking about _you_. Fucking Merlin. It's like you don't even _want_ me to forgive you. Why the hell do I even bother?" He gave her a dirty look, then turned around to leave.

"Forgive _me_?" Stella called after him furiously, her temper rising as quickly as his had. "What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who told me to fuck off for absolutely no reason, you stupid, pigheaded _git_!"

"No reason?" James repeated, whirling around and striding up to her. He grabbed her arm furiously, looking even more angry after being called such names. "_No reason_, Stella? You were being bloody annoying, that's the reason! If you'd stop whining to me about every damned thing, I wouldn't get mad at you! Or maybe if you told me a fucking thing about _you and Aiden seeing each other_?"

Stella felt her insides chill. So this was what he'd been so angry about? Some made-up, idiotic idea that she and Aiden were involved, that would be hell try and convince him was untrue? She groaned loudly, exasperated, livid, and distressed all at once. How the fuck were they ever going to stop fighting now?

"I don't know _what_ the fuck you're on about, James," she shouted, unable to come with a better way of conveying her sentiments on the suggestion that she and Aiden were dating in secret. "That's some bullshit and I don't know where you get off accusing me and Aid of lying to you." Stella was positively fuming.

"I didn't say it, the whole school is talking about it," James sneered.

"Well then you should have known it was bullshit!" she shot back furiously. "You really think I'd keep something like that from you? And you really think there's even the _slightest_ chance we'd ever end up dating?" She leered at him callously. "Get a fucking clue. No wonder you have no idea that you're as much at fault as I am for this."

"Fault for _what_?" James exclaimed incredulously. "For us fighting?" He laughed harshly, and the sound sent a chill through Stella's insides. "That's got nothing to do with me, love. If you're going to come teary-eyed to me, it might cross your mind just once that I'm bound to get irritated the millionth time it happens."

"Screw you, James," she spat. "Screw _you_."

James snorted derisively. "Don't be such a drama queen, Stella. Pretend you've got more maturity than a 12-year-old and take responsibility. This whiny bitch routine is getting fucking old."

"I'm not responsible for any of this," Stella said in an icy tone that she hoped was concealing how upset she was becoming. She wasn't used to standing up to James like this, and it was only because she knew she had Aiden's support that she didn't back down now, even as she risked angering him more.

"Oh and there's the ice queen act," he went on scathingly. "Don't even fucking try, Stella, you are not pinning this all on me."

Stella stood frozen, so hurt by all this that she was unable to come up with a reply and could only pretend to be so unflappable that his words hadn't affected her.

James stared back at her for a long moment. "You know what I think?" he said coldly at last. "I think you're jealous of me."

"What?" Stella yelped, losing all semblance of composure. "Why the hell would you think that?"

"You do all of this to get attention. Fake that you're hurt or worried, just so people will feel bad. Act like I'm the big bad older brother that treats poor, helpless little you like shit so you get their sympathy. But you don't fool me." James fixed a cool gaze on her and didn't look away.

Stella bit her lip viciously under James's penetrating stare, fighting back tears. "You're a bastard, James," she whispered. She turned and fled.

* * *

"That's disgusting," Stella muttered to Aiden as they made their way past a shady area on the outskirts of Hogsmeade where several couples could be seen making out. It was just past sunset, and they were on their way back to Hogwarts. Stella had walked up to him in the park just ten minutes before, head high and jaw set, and refusing to discuss whatever James had said. She was upset; if her stiff posture and silence hadn't clued him in, her tearstained cheeks were a dead giveaway.

Presently, Aiden looked as repulsed as Stella. His ever-strengthening infatuation with Emma had slowly been lessening his tolerance for ditzy girls and the blokes that went for them. And he was feeling especially irritable after seeing Emma and van der Spek together. _How could I have been like them?_ he thought with revulsion. "Let's go the way past the fountain," he suggested, eager to get an already tense Stella away from the kissing teenagers.

Stella nodded. The two walked in silence for a while as they made their way through the village, the streets becoming quieter and less congested as they went. They were approaching the fountain when Aiden heard Stella take a sharp intake of breath. He looked to where she was gazing, and nearly did a double-take. There, sitting on the fountain ledge, was Aurora Malfoy. But she wasn't alone. She and Liam Owens held hands as they carried on a quiet conversation. Aiden watched curiously as a smile lit up Malfoy's face and then Owens leaned forward to kiss her. Well now, wasn't this the odd turn in events? Soon as he makes a bet that could potentially destroy her, she starts carrying on with a respectable fellow bookworm. How very intriguing.

But apparently Stella didn't share his interest because for some reason, she hollered, "So the Gryffindor Princess is a slut as well as a bitch? Taking some tips from those skank best friends of yours, I see. Some future Head Girl _you_ are, Malfoy!"

Malfoy and Owens snapped apart immediately.

"Stella," Aiden muttered, surprising even himself when he took her by the elbow and began guiding her away from them. "Leave them alone."

Stella let him push her away easily, presumably because she'd gotten out what she had to say, but she kept her eyes on the couple. Aiden shot a glance back at them, and for some reason, the look on Malfoy's face made him feel as if someone had just thrust a knife in his back. Her expression wasn't one of anger or offense, but of sadness as she stared back at Stella, and Aiden couldn't fathom how Malfoy could be so innocent as to be hurt instead of furious at Stella's rudeness. He felt a strange sympathy to see Owens put an arm around Malfoy to comfort her, and it wasn't until Aiden had turned his back on them and gotten a ways away that he realized why the scene was so upsetting. It was the exact look of defeat Stella wore whenever she'd been chewed out by her brother or the Gryffindors (although always after the fact; she'd never break down in front of them), and it naturally triggered a protective instinct in him.

Aiden continued pulling Stella until they were out of earshot. Then he halted, whirled around, and was about to demand what she had been thinking, insulting the most protected Gryffindor in school, when he caught sight of the girl's face. She was on the verge of tears, her emerald eyes bright and her dainty chin wavering dangerously.

"Stell…" Aiden began, his look turning serious and his hand slipping down from her elbow to squeeze her small hand.

"I'm a bitch," she whispered, voice shaking a little. "I'm a cruel, heartless bitch."

"No!" Aiden exclaimed, instinctively putting out his other hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and then cup her cheek tenderly.

"I am," she protested quietly, her head hung.

"Stella," Aiden said firmly, forcing her to look at him with both hands on the sides of her face. "We all know people who get on our nerves and make us lose our tempers," he told her. "Maybe you went a little overboard, but—" Inwardly, he cringed at his words. _Are you _always_ this sympathetic, Black? Merlin, way to try to make her feel better_…

"I am!" she cried, pulling away from Aiden's grip, but he quickly grabbed her by the wrists so she couldn't run. "Don't lie to me! I know you think I am! Everyone does! I'm the goddamn Ice Princess of Slytherin! Now bloody let me go!" She tried to push him away with her encircled hands on his chest, but Aiden remained firm. "Let go of me, Aiden. You don't even want to be near me! Everyone hates me. Everyone says I'm a bitch. Even James…" With that, the tears suddenly began to flow, and she started sobbing, her head falling onto Aiden's chest, and her captured wrists slipping from his grip as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Aiden's heart jumped to his throat at the contact, but he wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend. _Merlin, James_, he thought, shaking his head a little. _What the fuck did you say to her?_

He rubbed small circles on her back as her chest heaved against him for several long minutes. When her crying at last slowed, he kissed the top of her forehead slowly.

"Listen to me, Stella," he said softly, but slowly, as if to ingrain the words in her head. "You are _not_ a bitch. You are smart, caring, beautiful—"

Here, Stella snorted, lifting up her head to smirk weakly at Aiden. "Beautiful?" she joked. "This face?" She pointed to herself doubtfully.

Aiden made a look of mock revulsion. "Well, maybe not _this_ face…" he teased, eyeing her tearstained cheeks and knotty hair skeptically.

Stella shot him a dirty look. "Shut up," she retorted, sniffling, and elbowing him lightly. "Big, ugly jerk," she muttered.

"Hey!" Aiden exclaimed. "Is this what I get for making you feel better?"

Stella's lips quirked into a watery grin. "Yes."

Aiden ruffled her hair fondly, knowing it would annoy her. When she squirmed away from him and began patting at her black locks, glaring at him darkly, he grinned triumphantly back.

"Prat," she huffed, causing Aiden's grin to widen.

"That's me," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and steering her back on the path to Hogwarts.

Stella looked over at him for a moment, a pleasantly puzzled expression on her tear-stained face as she studied him.

"What?" Aiden asked, not turning his head.

"Nothing," Stella said, facing forward once more. She dropped her head tiredly onto his shoulder.

A zip of electricity shot through him.

"You're the best, Aid, you know that?" she said sleepily through a large yawn.

Aiden smiled to himself.

* * *

"Forget about her," Liam consoled Aurora, who was staring at the retreating backs of Black and Potter from where she sat on the fountain's ledge.

Aurora shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Gryffindor Princess? _Slut_? Who the hell did Stella Potter think she was? Those idiot Potter twins were becoming more and more unstable, and she was getting really fucking tired of it. It was like they had some sort of bet going as to who could fuck with Aurora more.

She glanced up at Liam, who had a very concerned look on his face. "I'm fine," she told him. "Really, I am. Just not really sure what all that was about."

Liam shrugged. "No idea. She's always been bitchy, but that was pretty uncalled for."

Aurora frowned. "Apparently she now hates Gryffindors so much that now she just lashes out at me for no bloody reason." She shrugged resignedly before standing up. "Whatever. Screw it," she said, smiling at him. "She doesn't deserve this much attention. Where to next?"

Liam had just opened his mouth to respond when another voice cut him off.

"Aurora! Such a darling look for you!"

Before Aurora could comprehend what was happening a giant flash went off, and she was momentarily blinded.

Fiorella Jameson was beaming at Aurora and Liam, her cheeks flushed in excitement. She expertly pulled a quill from her tiny stump of a bun, and her hair fell into its usual bob. "And just who is _this_ strapping young man, Aurora? Moving on so soon? My, you live a life most of our readers only _dream_ of. Ahh, the lifestyles of the rich and famous and _young_…" She pressed her hands to her heart dreamily.

Aurora could only stare at her, both agape and aghast. This was rapidly turning into the worst date of all time. First Potter, and now she was about to have her maybe-rekindling-the-flame date recorded for the entire (and sadly, sizeable) population of _Fashionable Witch_ readers to hear? Could there be _anything_ more embarrassing? Or more devastating to her plan of trying to start dating Liam officially? She was fucked.

Meanwhile, Fiorella's photographer was snapping shots of her and Liam from every angle.

"Oh, Aurora," Fiorella went on, swatting girlishly at her and still acting as if they were the very best of friends. "Such talent for being in the spotlight I have rarely seen in one so young! How do you always attract such beaus? The _Fashionable Witch_ readers are dying to know!"

"Uh…"

"Well you know what this will mean!" she went on happily. "Everyone will want a geek-chic boyfriend too! So how long have you two been dating? And Aurora—you look marvelous, by the way—who are those exquisite robes by? Gertrude West? Lex Tuttleby?"

"This isn't a good time," Aurora said shortly, finding her voice at last. "Please excuse us." With that, she grabbed Liam by the arm and began marching away, not caring how mortifying an article Fiorella was now liable to write up on her. She just didn't want anymore embarrassing talk about what a supposed heartbreaker she was in front of Liam, who actually knew what her reputation in school was.

"But—" Fiorella protested, looking like she was about to have a fit, but Aurora ignored her, and didn't stop pulling Liam away until they'd left bloody annoying Fiorella Jameson standing huffily at the fountain with her photographer.

* * *

James plodded along the dark path to Hogwarts, kicking at stones while McLaggen chattered animatedly next to him, clutching his arm tightly and leaning her head on his shoulder every so often.

_What have I done?_ he thought miserably as he reflected on his argument with his twin. _She'll never forgive me. I was just too bloody obstinate and bigheaded to admit I was wrong._

He kicked violently at a stone in his path, sending it several feet away.

_You really fucked up this time, Potter._

In his heart, James knew he had been wrong. He had always been protective of his twin, and it could only be expected that she'd come to him for comfort when she was upset. To think that he had exploded at her when she had done nothing and then had still acted as if the whole argument had been her fault tore him apart inside. Plus he'd gone ahead and accused her of going behind his back and getting involved with Aiden—what had he been thinking? Obviously there was nothing going on between them.

_Stella's right_, he thought bitterly. _I _am _a bastard. Not to mention a bloody coward._

"Are you okay, James?" McLaggen was saying in a sweet voice, glancing at him with concern. "What happened with Stella?"

James was disgusted. _Could she be any faker?_

"I'm fine," he said curtly.

McLaggen looked at him worriedly. "If you're sure, James," she sighed, hugging herself up against his side.

"Let's hurry back," James said shortly, stepping away from her grip slightly.

McLaggen looked rather pissed then, but nodded. "Sure," she snapped.

James knew she was mad, but honestly, he didn't give a rat's ass. So he didn't respond, and sped up his strides toward the castle. _Screw McLaggen_, he thought, his jaw clenching. _Stella's a million times more important than her._

* * *

_What in Merlin's name is my problem?_ Stella thought in frustration as she headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Why did it always happen that she got James angry with her? Why the hell hadn't she just kept her mouth shut when he had actually been attempting reconciliation? And most importantly, why for fuck's sake had she been so bloody nervous every time she and Aiden had been alone? If nothing else, she'd learned in no uncertain terms that it was absolutely unacceptable for them ever to be together.

Stella sighed heavily, raising a hand to her forehead to massage her temples slowly. And she didn't know why she had lashed out at Malfoy and Owens. Maybe she had been tense from her fight with James. Maybe it was because she was jealous that Malfoy was on a date with someone that made her look all bloody aglow. Maybe it was because her nerves were so fucking raw that she just couldn't contain her emotions any longer.

But none of those explanations fully convinced her, so Stella could only conclude that she must have an instinctively unpleasant temperament. Which was kind of a sucky realization. Especially if you were starting to get all hot and bothered around the best friend that had seen you at your absolute worst.

_I do _not_ want Aid_, she insisted hotly. _Ben Kim is clearly a more attractive candidate for a boyfriend by every possible measure._

Stella groaned with aggravation. What was her problem? Like she didn't have enough drama going on, her stupid head and heart had to keep getting in the way of each other and fabricating new problems to upset her.

_Sure you don't want him, Potter…So why did you get chills whenever he touched you? And how come you can't stop thinking about him__?_ a voice in her head said annoyingly.

_No_, Stella told herself firmly, shaking her head to herself. _You're being stupid, Potter. Aiden is your best friend and that's _all._ And James would bloody _kill_ you. Assuming he ever starts speaking to you again…_

_You know you're crazy, right Potter? Totally fucking nuts._

Stella sighed. Damn that fucking voice.

* * *

"I fucked things up with Stell," James told Aiden miserably when they met in the Slytherin common room later that night.

Aiden snorted. "No shit," he said. "She was really upset."

James nodded dejectedly.

Aiden turned his head to look at the other boy worriedly. James would normally take offense to a comment like that and turn his temper on the person who had said it. _He's really beating himself up_, Aiden thought, brows raising. But he wasn't exactly sorry—after seeing the shape he'd reduced Stella to, he thought James maybe deserved to feel a little awful.

Nonetheless, eyeing the look on James's face, Aiden couldn't help but pity him. James was his other best mate, after all. And to be fair, he hadn't been present for any of their arguments, and could have gotten a decidedly one-sided account from the more fragile of the twins. So the two sat in silence for a while, Aiden unsure as to what he could say to comfort the other Slytherin.

"Quidditch match coming up," he said finally. _Really, Black? Quidditch? That's the best you can do?_

James nodded.

"How long do you reckon it'll take you to catch the snitch from under Jacobs's nose?" he sniggered. "Hufflepuff is a bigger joke than usual this year."

James snorted weakly. "Not long," he said, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"You started on the bet yet?"

James was silent. "Not really," he said. "Malfoy had a date with Liam Owens," he added after a while. "Makes it a little tougher. She seems to really like him."

Aiden nodded, recalling the scene Stella had caused at the fountain in Hogsmeade.

"Didn't see that coming," he said neutrally. "Thought they were done last year, and Owens usually goes for flashier girls."

James nodded again. "Yeah, but whatever. Malfoy let me get close enough to nearly snog her, which I'd say is a victory in itself. She'll come around."

As silence fell upon them once more, Aiden finally sighed resignedly. He was about ready to head up to bed when James turned to him abruptly. "Are you in love with Stella?" he asked, his face surprisingly calm and his eyes glinting inquisitively.

Shocked, Aiden could not immediately form words, but instead shook his head emphatically. "Wha—" he began, blinking rapidly, "where would you get an idea like that? Of _course_ not!" And more importantly was why such a notion had arisen not once but now twice in one day…Aiden was baffled as to where all this was coming from.

James nodded seriously, still strangely thoughtful rather than vicious. "I guess that's the talk around Hogwarts," he started idly, and at once Aiden realized where he was going with this. Aiden was embarrassing himself, he was embarrassing Slytherin House, and now he was embarrassing the Potters, simply by being too infatuated with Emma to pursue any new girls.

Aiden shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, mate," he said, not wishing to have this conversation. "I've been so preoccupied with schoolwork that I guess I've kind of been keeping to myself. That's got to be why anyone would think I was with Stella instead."

James nodded once more, apparently satisfied that they had reached an unspoken understanding: that Aiden had to get back in the game, and he had to do it fast. He was being weak and stupid, and if James ever found out the real reason for why he'd been avoiding the usual girls, he'd be disgusted.

Oh, and also an understanding that Stella was absolutely, 100% off-limits. He could deal with that though. It would be turning off his maddening attraction to Emma Weasley that would be more difficult.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to face his best friend. "I guess I'll go up to bed then," he said, pausing to see if James felt they had more to talk about, but the other boy merely acknowledged with him with a short nod. "You coming?"

James shook his head.

"Alright." Aiden stood and headed for to the boys' dormitories. His thoughts drifted back to the scene he had witnessed at the fountain. Images of Malfoy kissing Owens and Stella shouting angrily at them flashed through his head.

A mere hour earlier, he'd been hoping Malfoy wouldn't report it all back to Emma, because that was the last thing he needed—more reasons for Emma to hate him and the Slytherins. But now…now, Aiden was going to get a bloody hold of himself. He _had_ to.

And that meant he was going to fucking get over Emma Weasley. By whatever means necessary.

* * *

Stella kicked off her covers angrily and roughly pulled back the curtains around her four-poster bed. She crept out of the room, too preoccupied even to snigger at Naomi's unfeminine snores. Stella slipped down the stairs, freezing mid-step as she neared the bottom and she heard someone climbing the steps to the boys' dormitories. Her breath caught in her throat when, from her spot in the shadows, she saw the very cause of her most recent unrest.

Aiden looked lost in his thoughts, however, and he kept going without a glance at her. She sat then and there on the steps with her head in her hands for a moment, collecting her thoughts. She hadn't even known where she was going when she got out of bed; she couldn't go to James for obvious reasons, and she wasn't about to sneak into the boys' dorms to speak to Aiden when her brother might come up at any minute. Stella sucked in her breath once more when she realized her brother was sitting in the common room, obviously in his own world as he stared into the fire. He suddenly stood and headed in the direction Aiden had just gone, going up the staircase to the boys' dorms without ever noticing her crouched in the shadows on the next stairway over.

As soon as he had gone by, Stella shot across the room and out into the corridor outside the Slytherin dungeons. She ran for a few minutes, not caring where, until she found herself near the Astronomy Tower and out of breath. She climbed the steps up until she reached the top, sighing as she caught sight of the magnificent view. She craned her neck backwards and searched through the constellations, identifying them rapidly. She'd always loved the stars—she'd been named Stella because of her mother's similar passion, and being out on a starry night like this always made her feel closer to her for some reason. And there was Gemini, not just her sign but also a reminder of her brother. Stella stared up at the twins and felt a familiar pain return and burst into her heart. She missed James so much…

A few tears trickled from her eyes, leaving tracks down her porcelain cheeks. She missed _everyone_. James, their father, and most of all, the mother for whose comfort she longed.

_Where are you, Mum?_ she thought, the tears forming more rapidly now. _I need you more than ever._

* * *

Please review!


	6. A Secret Truce

**Chapter Six: A Secret Truce**

* * *

"Hi, James," McLaggen cooed as James sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast Friday morning.

He grunted in response. It had been a long fucking week, and he was still sick of her after last weekend's date. In fact, he was even starting to get sick of Holloway, and the only time he'd spent with her had been during Quidditch practice two nights ago (and a brief romp in the locker room afterward).

McLaggen looked miffed but went back to her breakfast.

"Potter."

James looked up tiredly as Aiden sat down next to him.

"You look terrible," Aiden said bluntly, buttering himself some toast.

"Fuck off," James grumbled. Of course he looked terrible. He was bloody miserable. He couldn't get over what a total jackass he'd been to Stella. As if she didn't already have enough upsetting her…and here he was, supposedly her caring, protective brother, yet responsible for hurting her yet again. And as if all that wasn't making him feel badly enough, there was the added, ridiculous inability to make himself go apologize. Sure, it was pride, but it was also somehow much more real and difficult to admit these personal failings aloud than it was to brood over them in his mind. And worst of all was the worry that she'd laugh in his face. At this point, he deserved it if she didn't want to forgive him. It would serve him right.

Sighing heavily, James propped his elbow up on the table, chin resting in his hand, and glanced idly around the room. Malfoy and the rest of the Gryffindors entered, catching James's attention. Although he'd told Aiden otherwise, he couldn't pretend he wasn't rather insulted by how his interactions with Malfoy had gone so far. She wasn't falling for him quite as easily as he'd anticipated…which was further complicated by what James would have previously considered a non-issue—this nonsense she was possibly starting with Owens.

James leaned forward to study them, his eyes narrowing. Malfoy was walking arm-in-arm with Patil-Creevey, and the two were giggling conspiratorially. He caught a glimpse of Malfoy's beaming smile, and was struck by how pretty she looked.

_Potter, get a bloody hold of yourself_, he snarled inwardly. Malfoy? Pretty? Last thing he needed was to make this bet even harder by starting to like the brat.

And yet James couldn't tear his eyes away from the girl as she took her seat at the Gryffindor table. He watched with a growing anger as Owens came up to her and, holding her hand and swinging it back and forth casually, chatted with her for a few minutes. His eyes darkened when he saw the boy lean down and kiss Malfoy softly before he left for the Ravenclaw table.

_Who the bloody hell does he think he is?_ James thought hotly. _Fucking promiscuous egomaniac is going to make me lose this goddamn bet._

Hmm…that description sounded an awful lot like himself…

James shook his head firmly. He really was giving Owens too much credit here. Sure, Owens had dated his fair share of attractive girls, but he clearly wasn't in a league with James. He just had to remember that a bespectacled pushover was probably what Malfoy fantasized about and adjust his tactics accordingly. It didn't matter the girl—he could beat out Liam Owens any day.

He suddenly became aware that Malfoy was looking back at him, a confused and slightly annoyed expression on her face. She raised a brow mildly, still talking to Weasley across from her, before turning away and giving the conversation her full attention.

_Dammit_, James swore inwardly. _Staring at her? Come on, Potter, pull yourself together_.

He was, however, completely distracted from his thoughts when his twin plopped down on the opposite side of Aiden, ignoring James as she had done all week.

Aiden looked between the two uncomfortably.

James went back to picking at his food, dodging a glance up at Stella every so often to see her moving her breakfast around her plate as well, not eating a bite.

Finally he couldn't stand it anymore, and pushing his food away, stood up. He missed his sister. That was all there was to it. He had to do something to set it right.

* * *

"Excuse me, Professor Snape?"

The whole of Professor Snape's Advanced Potions class turned around to look at the speaker, a hesitant second-year. But Aurora quickly returned to her smoking green potion, stirring in the next ingredient.

Snape looked up from Aiden Black's cauldron of Tortallis Potion he was inspecting.

"Yes?" he asked impatiently, frowning at the boy, who cowered slightly.

"Um, it's just that Aurora Malfoy is supposed to go to Professor Dumbledore's office, sir," he said meekly.

Snape nodded. "Very well," he said, a slightly sour look on his face. "Miss Malfoy," he called, turning to the girl.

"Yes, Professor?" Aurora asked warily. She was trying not to worry about why she was being summoned, but she couldn't ever recall someone being pulled out of class to see the Headmaster…it sounded serious.

"Is your potion complete, Miss Malfoy?"

Aurora shook her head. "I still need to add the nester oil and falurdin seeds," she told him.

Snape nodded. "Then I shall inspect it for how it is supposed to be at this stage. Off you go," he said, nodding at the door and throwing a glare at the young student, who jumped back.

Aurora smiled slightly at the amused smirk on Snape's face and, shaking her head, packed her books and followed the boy out. Professor Snape was most certainly her favorite teacher. She'd known him for ages—he was close with her father—and was quite comfortable with him. Not to mention she found it hilarious how much he intimidated students when she knew he was hardly the tough guy he made himself out to be.

"What does Professor Dumbledore need me for?" Aurora asked, trying to hide her apprehension as the second-year led her to his office.

The boy, who she now recognized as a Gryffindor, shrugged. "I'm just the messenger," he told her, looking much more relaxed now that he was out of Snape's presence.

They made their way to Dumbledore's office, where the Headmaster himself stood outside the door. He looked far graver than Aurora was used to seeing him, and the previous nervous twinge swelled to a full-blown knot of anxiety in her stomach. What could possibly be going on that he needed to speak with her so urgently?

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Aurora asked, wringing her hands.

"Please, come up to my office, Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore said heavily, muttering the password and leading the girl inside.

Once in his office, Dumbledore turned back to face her and gestured one of the comfortable-looking chairs. "Please, sit," he said, looking slightly pained.

Aurora was frozen though. "What is it?" she asked hoarsely.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I'm afraid I've got some bad news, Aurora," he said.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Dumbledore sighed. "Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban early this morning."

Somehow Aurora knew he was going to say more, despite his long pause. Her grandfather was highly dangerous, and had been an extremely high-security prisoner. Whatever he'd broken out for, it certainly wasn't solely to get back his freedom.

"He went straight to your home, and your mother was…"—Dumbledore's voice caught the slightest bit—"…attacked."

The blood drained from Aurora's face. Unable to speak, she could only shake her head in disbelieving horror. Dumbledore had to be wrong. There was some mistake. Her mother couldn't have been attacked…

"I'm afraid it's true, Aurora. She's at St. Mungo's and your father's come back from assignment to be with her, but her present condition is unknown to me. Aurora, I have to be fully honest," Dumbledore went on gravely. "She didn't look good when I left her."

Aurora nodded tightly, fighting back tears and hardly paying attention as he went on with details. Something about her father and Harry Potter being the Aurors to get back in time and fight off her attackers, and Lucius escaping. It was just too difficult to believe that this was actually happening. It had to be some cruel, sick joke.

"Can I see her?" she managed.

Dumbledore shook his head, looking even more upset. "She's in the emergency ward; no one's allowed in but your father."

Aurora felt the tears sliding down her cheeks despite her attempts to hold them back. She brushed them away, biting down on her lip to prevent more tears from falling, which only served to increase their flow.

"I will let you know what news there is as soon as I hear, but as of now, you must stay here. Lucius is on the loose, and you, Aurora, will be another target of his."

Aurora nodded once more, still wiping her eyes and cheeks fruitlessly as more tears continued to stream from her eyes and preparing to edge back toward the door. She had to get out of here, she couldn't stand to hear more of this.

"If you'd like to discuss anything, I will be here, in my office." Dumbledore peered at her closely, apparently aware that she was about to bolt. "Will you be fine, or shall I escort you to Gryffindor Tower, or perhaps the Hospital Wing?"

Aurora shook her head. "I'm fine, P—Professor," she choked out, hunched over now in an effort to suppress the sobs that were threatening to explode from her.

"I'm sorry, Aurora," Dumbledore said sadly, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. "Truly, I am."

Aurora nodded then turned and fled.

She ran blindly away, not knowing where she was headed. She barely heard the loud wheezes that came from her as she continued to sprint through her tears, only aware of the pleading mantra playing over and over in her thoughts: _Please let Mum be alright. Please let Mum be alright. Please let Mum be alright_. Aurora suddenly stumbled but instead of falling, strong arms pulled her up.

She glanced up to see who it was, then without stopping to consider how inappropriate or unwelcome such behavior would be, buried her head in his chest and sobbed.

* * *

"_Excellent_ work, Black," Snape praised Aiden as he inspected his cauldron of Tortallis Potion. "Ten points to Slytherin."

Aiden shot a smug look at James, who smirked back in acknowledgement.

There were at least twenty students in the Advanced Potions class, but it was clear that Snape favored Aiden, James, and Stella (and for some reason, Gryffindor Princess Malfoy) above everyone. Being top Potions students and loyal Slytherins, Snape seemed to have overlooked the fact that he, at one point, had utterly despised their fathers, Harry and Sirius.

"Shall I spill this out?" Aiden asked Snape, motioning to his completed Potion.

Snape shook his head. "Prepare a flask-full and dispose of the rest. Put the flask on my desk. That goes for everyone," he added, heading to Malfoy's potion.

Aiden watched as Snape gave Malfoy full marks then turned back to him. "Finished, Black?" he asked.

Aiden nodded.

"Complete Miss Malfoy's potion, please," he told him before turning to Hufflepuff Astrid Jacobs's cauldron.

Aiden nodded once more and sat down where Malfoy had been minutes before. He added the nester oil—five drops put in at intervals of 30 seconds for three minutes—almost automatically, allowing his attention to wander.

Across the room, he saw Stella sitting with Tommy Flint, her potion somehow almost completed despite the fact that he'd seen the two whispering back and forth all class. Aiden smiled fondly to himself, shaking his head a little. Whether to show James she was doing fine without him, or because she'd managed to stop obsessing over him long enough to enjoy Tommy's company, Aiden could not be sure, but either way it was gratifying to see her smiling at last. Several rows over, James was flirting with Ravenclaw Ines Peña, who sat in front of him, in the seat beside Aiden's former one. He was completely ignoring Naomi Holloway, who sat next to him wearing a pissy expression, arms folded across her chest.

"_No_, Miss Potter," Snape suddenly said, making Aiden turn his gaze back to Stella immediately. "You must have been too busy gossiping and distracting other students when you should have been paying attention to adding your nester oil—this potion is useless. Go by Black and watch how he adds it to Miss Malfoy's potion," he added sternly.

Stella, normally an exceptional Potions student, flushed brightly as she got up and came over to Aiden, who offered an apologetic look. She pulled up a chair and watched him finish adding his nester oil with a stormy expression, elbows on the table and her chin rested heavily on her palms.

Aiden shot her a sidelong glance as he began putting the falurdin seeds in the cauldron.

"You okay?" he asked quietly when Snape had moved to the other end of the room to look at some Gryffindor's potion.

Stella nodded tightly, not wanting to get reprimanded again for disturbing the class.

"No biggie, Stell," Aiden told her. "Snape knows you're good. He just can't _always_ favor Slytherins." He chuckled lightly, nudging the girl. Since his conversation last weekend with James about Stella—and whether Aiden was in love with her—Aiden had not bothered to change his behavior around her. Perhaps this was unwise, given the Hogwarts gossip, but he really only cared what James thought because he was the only one whose thoughts and actions were likely to affect Stella or himself. And for the moment, James seemed assured that their relationship was nothing more than platonic, and had apparently been more worried about Aiden not dating anyone so far this year.

So all week long, Aiden had made a reluctant effort to sit with, flirt with, and sleep with a variety of girls from his classes. Of course, he hadn't dared leave Stella to fully fend for herself while her fight with James persisted, but he figured it was to the advantage of both of them if he got his act together and started to behave a little more like his old self. So in addition to lessons spent bantering with the cutest girls in his classes, Aiden had wound up back in bed with his old stand-by, Laurel. For the moment, she was the easiest—in more ways than one.

And today, Aiden had dutifully sat by Ines and been utterly charming until he'd been asked to finish Malfoy's potion. Indeed, James had certainly approved of the choice (or at least he'd clearly preferred her to Holloway) because he'd stepped into entertain Ines once he'd left, and was continuing to blatantly ignore his own seatmate.

But Aiden couldn't deny that carrying on this whole charade was far more exhausting than he'd remembered. What was the fucking matter with him? He used to be with a different girl every night (and thoroughly enjoy it), but now all he could think of was how fake these girls seemed compared to Emma, how much effort it took to maintain this lifestyle, and why he should bother making himself miserable over this to begin with—it was too goddamn hard trying to be someone he no longer wanted to be.

Well, he had an answer for that last question at least—he was doing it to fix his relationship with James, which had become rather strained after recent events, and to take care of Stella. She didn't deserve to have rumors running around the school about her just because Aiden was too busy being a pansy to prove otherwise.

Presently, Stella broke into a reluctant smile. "There you go again," she sighed, shaking her head a little. "Making me smile when I'm trying my best to stay mad."

Aiden's heart jumped at the sight of her smile and he focused back on the potion, trying to get a hold of himself. _Falurdin seeds_, he reminded himself. _Starting with two seeds, add at intervals of two minutes, increasing the amount by two until twenty are put in at the same time. Falurdin seeds…._

* * *

"Merlin, James," Ines Peña laughed, shaking her mahogany head slightly. "You are so funny. I get a kick out of the things you say."

James shot her his signature heart-stopping smirk. He was enjoying wasting the rest of his Potions period with the Ravenclaw; she was much more entertaining than Holloway, who sat sullenly next to him. Of course, Peña was just like the other girls that he went after, popular and gorgeous, but she was surprisingly quite the little sweetheart, and not nearly as dumb as all those other bimbos. She was an oddly attractive mix of the two least desirable girls James could think of—caring, naïve Malfoy and give-no-fucks Creevey. Or maybe of a non-bitchy version of his loveable twin, James thought with a fond smirk. Of course, the best part about Peña was that she was distracting him from brooding over Stella and her refusal to even look in his direction. And if Aiden—who in the last few days had taken remarkable steps toward transforming back to his old self—decided not to go after Peña, she'd make a very one-night stand for James.

Unlike the pouting girl sitting beside him right now, who wouldn't bloody let him out of her sight since he'd gone off and taken another girl to dinner. Sighing, James eyed Holloway with a sidelong glance. Boy had he misjudged that one. He'd thought that mysterious thing would persist a little longer, but apparently she too reacted to the worries that James's attention would stray by becoming desperate instead of keeping up the façade that had been so alluring in the first place. After she'd heard he took McLaggen to Hogsmeade, Holloway had been all over him at Quidditch practice, and although he'd gone ahead and had sex with her—really, it would have been more work not to, given how insistent she'd been—he wasn't going to keep her around. She was just too damned annoying, especially when contrasted with the girl he was supposed to be focusing on—Malfoy.

_Potter_, a voice in his head said warningly. _Don't you dare start thinking of Malfoy as a good thing_.

But James just couldn't convince himself that spending time Malfoy was worse than being around someone like Holloway. At very least, Malfoy took some effort and provided a challenge. And, as loathe as he was to admit it, she really wasn't quite so obnoxious when you had her one on one. Instead, her outspokenness came out as a moderately attractive feistiness.

_Potter, bloody listen to yourself_, came the appalled voice again and James shook his head firmly to clear his thoughts. That voice was right; he couldn't be thinking about Malfoy this way. Not only was it absurd to consider Malfoy appealing in any way, but it wasn't going to help him win that bet any faster if his judgment started getting clouded by any feelings of attachment toward her. The bet came first. If he wasn't able to make it happen, he couldn't even begin to imagine the condemnation he'd get from Aiden were he to fail on account of an affection for Malfoy. He'd be weak, pathetic, worthless, and he couldn't bear to think how Aiden's opinion of him would change.

And in any case, he had it wrong once again. Malfoy wasn't _really_ the girl he ought to be focusing on. He was just trying to pretend the heartache he was experiencing due to his latest fight with Stella wasn't there. But it most certainly was. With each passing moment—especially those spent together in class or at a meal—that she refused to look at him, James felt his spirits sink a little further. How on Earth was he supposed to make her understand that he was sorry for what he'd said? And even if she did, Stella wouldn't confide in him anymore with her thoughts and concerns when she could get the same comfort from Aiden without all the bullshit and foul temper that came along with James. How was he supposed to earn back her trust?

All these worries were what made the idea of even trying to apologize so very unpalatable. It wasn't just that he'd have to admit he was wrong…James would have to face the reality that his twin might not want to forgive him.

Presently, Peña laughed once more, drawing James's attention back to her, before she turned back to her completed potion that awaited inspection. Snape was nearing her table, and she raised a hand pleasantly.

"I'm done over here, Professor," she said sweetly. Snape nodded and made his way over to inspect the brew.

Well, James wasn't about to let Holloway use Peña's distraction to start blabbering to him. "Professor, may I…?" James asked, catching Snape's eye and motioning the door, like he needed to use the washroom.

Snape nodded, still explaining something to Peña, and James shot out of his chair. He wandered in the vague direction of the restroom in case a teacher caught him wandering the halls, and, hearing rapid footsteps from around the corner, straightened up, smoothed his robes, and prepared a charming smile for whichever teacher he had to convince he wasn't skipping class. But instead, it was a crazed-looking Malfoy he saw hurtling down the corridor toward him, and before James knew what he was doing, he'd turned down the hall and begun walking toward her. She appeared not to notice him, but it seemed lucky he was there because a few seconds later—and barely two steps away from him—Malfoy tripped, and without thinking what he was doing, James rushed forward to grab her.

She looked up at him, and whether or not it registered that he was generally her least favorite person in existence was unclear, because the next moment she'd flung herself against him and begun sobbing.

Perhaps she had triggered a brotherly instinct within him, or perhaps James was misplacing held-back emotions directed toward the sister who wouldn't speak to him. But for some reason, he automatically went to rub her back comfortingly. "Malfoy…" he muttered. "It's alright."

She whimpered, clinging tightly to his chest. Merlin, she really must have hallucinated he was Weasley, or something.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pushing back some of the hair he could see plastered to her cheek with tears.

At last her tears seemed to let up, and she backed away from him a bit, head hung. Yep, she knew it was him, alright.

"I'm sorry," she said in a low, breathy voice. "I…I'll just head to my dorm—"

"What did Dumbledore say?" James interrupted her, a gentleness in his voice that surprised even him.

Malfoy shook her head, still hunched forward with her hair covering part of her face.

"Malfoy…" he said again, softly. He reached forward to skim his fingers down her forearm and catch her wrist in his grasp. "What did he say?"

Malfoy sniffled a little then at last looked up at him, eyes glimmering and cheeks tearstained. At first she seemed to hesitate, then the whole story came tumbling out.

"My—my _grandfather_, Lucius Malfoy, has broken out of prison," she began slowly. "He—he went to our house f-f-first, and he…he…" Aurora seemed to suppress a sob that was threatening to escape her. "He attacked my mum," she whispered. "He and a bunch of Death Eaters broke into our house and cornered her…if my dad hadn't showed up, she'd already be dead." At this, she began to cry again. "And they don't know if they can save her," she finished, her voice barely audible. "Your dad was there, too," she added faintly, a distant look in her eyes. "They had an assignment together…he and Dad fought the Death Eaters off…"

Slipping out of his loose grasp around her wrist, she sunk down to the floor, leaning back against the wall. It barely registered to James that he should have been horrified to be caught essentially holding her hand all this time.

"Um. You going to be alright, Malfoy?" James asked uncomfortably. This whole encounter felt odd. It must have been the first conversation he'd ever had with Malfoy, and he couldn't pretend he wasn't feeling rather sorry for her.

She nodded, swiping at her eyes.

"Can I, er, walk you back to class? Or your dorm?"

She smiled weakly. "Thanks, Potter, but I'll be okay."

James nodded, and after a lingering glance at her bent over frame on the hallway floor, spun around and strode back to Snape's classroom.

* * *

It had been over an hour, and still Aurora sat on the spot of floor where she'd initially curled up in fetal position. She'd somehow reached a place of calm and could only attribute it to complete and utter denial. And all she wanted to do was stay hidden so she could continue pretending this wasn't happening.

Her four-poster, safe in the Gryffindor dorms, was an option. But really, there was still a chance of roommates and housemates with free periods milling around. She could remain where she was, but the next class was about to end, and at the last class period switch, she'd been passed by no fewer than thirty curious stares as students hurried to their next lesson.

At last Aurora decided somewhere out on the grounds would afford the most privacy, and snuck past several classrooms and out of the castle to one of the more secluded courtyard benches. She had just sat down, huddled up in the chilly late September air, when she spotted none other than James Potter headed her direction.

"I saw you walk past Charms," he said by way of explanation, as if him missing class were the only shocking thing about his presence. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat beside her.

"My mum died when I was five," Potter said abruptly, making Aurora turn her head to look at him, mostly nauseated by such a conversation topic but also vaguely registering surprise that he would bring up this subject at all, let alone with _her_, of all people.

Aurora eyed him warily. "No offense, Potter," she began weakly, "but this doesn't really sound like the most comforting of anecdotes."

He shocked her by not seeming insulted in the least, and merely waved away her comment.

"She worked in the Order, with my dad. They were always off on assignment, my dad even more so than my mum. Still," he told her, "they always found time to be with Stell and me. Our grandparents lived with us, and whenever possible, Mum and Dad would come home to see all of us. But when Mum was…_murdered_"—Potter stopped abruptly for a moment, then started up again as if he'd never broken off—"Dad sort of stopped coming home. He began to work special case missions, and we weren't allowed to write him anymore, because it might put him in danger—give away his location and the like." Potter waved a hand about vaguely. "You know. But anyways, after that all started, we would see him maybe once or twice a year. One time, we didn't see him from one year's Christmas until the Easter over a year later." Potter looked down at his hands.

Well, at least he was distracting her. Aurora had to admit, she had never felt any sympathy toward James Potter, let alone the overwhelming pity she felt now. She had never known Potter to be open about anything, and for him to be telling her all about such a sensitive subject was sort of blowing her mind. She put an awkward hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at her and Aurora to almost jump in surprise. The boy's emerald eyes, normally cold and masking every emotion he felt were now bright and expressive. But the biggest shock was that they were glinting with unshed tears. It made her squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I guess what I'm saying, Malfoy," he said, his voice sounding choked, "is that I get it. And I really hope your mum gets better."

Aurora stared, not knowing how to respond. "Thanks," she mumbled at last, heart sinking as her thoughts returned to her mother after Potter's momentary distraction. "And uh, sorry about the whole sobbing in the hallway thing," she added with a weak laugh, attempting to divert her attention back to him and away from her worries about her mother's condition. "Thanks for making sure I was okay."

Potter nodded briskly. "Don't mention it."

"Potter…" Aurora began, not really sure how to say exactly what she was thinking at this moment—how very strange it was that they were being friendly right now, but on an entirely conflicting note, how very strange it was that they were enemies in the first place.

He looked over at her. "You're wondering why I'm saying all this after being a consistent asshole for the past five years?" he guessed.

Aurora couldn't help the guilty half-smile that appeared on her lips. "Well that and…well, it's just…we used to play together as kids, don't you remember that? What did I do to make you hate me so much when we got to Hogwarts?" she spoke in a rush, worried she may lose her nerve otherwise. But after this abrupt shift in his behavior, she just had to know—it was a question that had been in the back of her mind for many years.

Potter looked at his hands. "I remember," he admitted. "We were friends then, before Mum was killed. Your mother would bring you over to our house sometimes, or she would pick us up," he recalled, biting his lip as he struggled to remember all the details. "We must have been three, or four, maybe. It was when Mum was away as well as Dad. I guess she didn't want my grandparents overburdened."

Aurora nodded at the memory.

"It's just, after Mum died, everything changed," he explained, sighing heavily. "My grandparents were getting older and obviously grieving, so Stell and I got used to being independent and in charge; we ordered the house elves about and didn't really have any sort of parental figures. And at Hogwarts, when we were sorted into Slytherin, we recognized the attitude we needed in order to maintain our status, to stay in control," he went on, shrugging as if this had been normal 11-year-old behavior and insight. "So I guess, when I met you again, I had already become the jerk you see me as." He turned to smile weakly at her. "I guess I'm a bit of a bastard."

Aurora nodded, it not occurring to her that her agreement might offend him. "So is that it, you were too cool for me once we met again at Hogwarts?" she said, unable to keep the disgust from her voice.

Potter frowned. "I remember thinking you were a goody-two-shoes," he told her, shrugging nonchalantly, as if he'd decided the truth was more important right now than trying to be polite. "Aiden, Stella, and I had already formed a close friendship, and we loved to make fun of anyone who wasn't like us. Those first days of school, after we had been sorted, I knew you were the epitome of a Gryffindor: moral, loyal, and brave. When we taunted you, or played tricks on other kids, the Gryffindor Trio would stand up for what they thought was right." He spoke the last part so mockingly that Aurora could have smacked him. "Although, I've got to say you've turned out to be the best of the three," he added wryly.

"Well, you've been a total jerk to all those kids," Aurora snapped, ignoring the backhanded compliment and trying to keep her temper in check. "No one deserved for you to treat them the way you have for all your time at Hogwarts."

Potter nodded miserably. "What do they think of me?" he asked suddenly. "What do people call me behind my back? A jerk? Or does it get worse?"

Aurora laughed hollowly. "It's definitely worse," she said, sneering a little. "Pretty much it's what we've always told you, that you're conceited, heartless, annoying, proud, selfish—"

Potter rolled his eyes. "Okay, I think I get it," he interrupted her.

"No, I think you _don't_," Aurora said hotly. "Because you haven't changed a bit in these past five years, no matter _how_ many times we've tried to tell you what a bastard you are!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Potter snarled. "Think you're so perfect? Well, I've got some words to describe _you_. How about a stuck-up, prudish _nerd_, that's a perfect, goody-two-shoes example of the noble and brave Gryffindor Princess she's supposed to be?"

Aurora's jaw dropped and she jumped up abruptly and strode off in the direction of the entry back into the castle. _Damn_ that Potter. He was absolutely the most inconsiderate _jackass_ she'd ever met.

"Malfoy!" Potter suddenly yelped, apparently realizing what he'd said. "Wait, come back!" He stood up quickly and grabbed her hand.

Aurora stopped and turned around to look at him coolly. _Nothing_ he could say would make her change her mind. There was no compassion in him. He was a complete and utter bastard.

"Please," he pleaded. "Please…_Aurora_."

Okay, perhaps not. Her name rolled _so_ nicely off his lips… And by now, she hardly recognized this boy as James Potter. Between his insane recent flirtations with her, the bizarre consolation after she'd learned of her mother's attack, and now this flood of emotion from him, she had to admit she was really curious about what was going on with him. Why on Earth did he even care that he'd pissed her off? It had certainly never bothered him before. But she stared at him with a hard expression. _He's an insensitive asshole, Malfoy_, she reminded herself, thinking of his outburst a moment ago.

He slowly pulled her back to where she had been sitting.

"Am I really all those things?" she whispered, unable to help how pathetic she sounded. What had happened to that firm resolve?

Potter seemed regretful as he looked at her. "No," he told her, running a hand through his unruly raven hair several times agitatedly. "You're right, I'm just a bastard. Don't listen to what I say."

"Potter…"

"Well, you can be a bit annoying sometimes. And you really _are_ infuriatingly perfect and prim…"

"Potter!" Aurora glared at him. "What makes you think you're flawless enough to point out people's faults?"

Potter glared back at her. "_You_ just did, Malfoy," he pointed out. "I'm just letting you know, since you seem to think telling _me_ I'm a bastard is beneficial."

_Jackass_, Aurora growled to herself. He had an answer for everything.

"Well, then tell me this: why do you Potters call me the Gryffindor Princess?" she stared at him, unable to hide the hurt in her eyes.

Potter seemed regretful once more. "It doesn't matter," he told her, running a hand nervously through his hair. "It's just a stupid nickname."

"It does matter," Aurora put in stubbornly. "Am I really that stuck-up that you call me a princess?"

Potter sighed. "No, _Aurora_, you're not. You just happen to embody all the traits that make up the quintessential Gryffindor. And what with the protection you get on all sides from your friends, you kind of give the impression of being their little princess."

"So being a good Gryffindor is a crime in your book?"

"Well, if you're a damned know-it-all who thinks she's better than everyone else!"

"What?"

"Come on, Malfoy," Potter sneered. "We all know you walk around the school thinking you're above everyone else. That you're smarter, have that noble Gryffindor spirit, and that you and your friends are always in the right?"

Aurora glowered at him. "_I_ think I'm superior?" She laughed cruelly. "How about how you strut about the place, torturing other students and acting too cool for rules?"

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up about me!" he snapped, jumping up angrily. "You have no idea what it's like to be me! None! You've never had to live through any of the stuff I just told you about. So don't give me _any_ of that shit. You don't know anything, Malfoy, not a _fucking thing_." His outburst ended, he glowered murderously at her.

Aurora's eyes had widened dramatically. "Merlin," she said softly. "I didn't mean—I didn't think…"

"That's right, you bloody _didn't_ think. Everyone come and hear, Brainiac Malfoy _didn't think_. That's some sort of record, wouldn't you say? In fact, it's fucking unprecedented!" He laughed harshly, and Aurora felt herself recoil in slight fear.

"Look, I'm sorry, James, I didn't mean…"

"James? _James_? Since when do you have the right to call me by my first name, Malfoy? We're not _friends_, we're not even acquaintances! You hate me, and _I_ hate _you_." He glared down at her, his eyes blazing with fury.

Aurora was frozen on the bench, getting scared of this new kind of eruption from Potter, like none other she'd ever witnessed… All their other fights had only shown Potter to be in complete control of himself, no matter how pissed off he got. But this new view of him…she didn't have the courage to try to argue back. And she was wholly bewildered as to where it had come from in the first place.

"No one calls me James, Malfoy. That right is reserved for people I _care_ about. Like Aiden and _Stella_." James stopped short, looking away from Aurora and staring straight ahead of him.

Aurora watched in utter shock as he clapped a hand to his face, shutting his eyes, then plunked next to her on the bench, head turned away. She stared open-mouthed at his back as his other hand came up and he buried his face in his palms. Only the sheer implausibility that James Potter would _ever_ cry in front of her kept her from immediately figuring out that that was exactly what he was doing.

A hand flew to her mouth as she watched his back shake, and heard him sniff as he tried to suppress his sobs.

"Potter…" she whispered, shaking her head disbelievingly as a hand reached out toward him instinctively. Her palm came to rest on his shoulder, and he jumped at the touch.

"Get the bloody hell away from me, Malfoy," he spat, but it was half-hearted and teary.

Aurora ignored him and, standing up, came to kneel in front of him. "Potter," she said again, not really sure what she hoped to accomplish by comforting him, but only knowing that she couldn't stand to see anyone, even her archenemy, in pain like this. After all, Potter never expressed emotions like this that could show he had weaknesses—the fact that he'd been so overwhelmed by anything that he would let his guard down was a testament to how distressed and upset he must be. And if she was being fair, rather than run the other direction, he'd awkwardly attempted to make sure she was alright during her own sobfest not two hours before.

Potter pulled his head from his hands, but looked away abruptly so she couldn't see any of the traces crying had left on his face. "Leave me alone, Malfoy," he said stiffly, wiping his nose on his sleeve while he still avoided her gaze.

"No," Aurora said before she'd even thought.

Out of habit, Potter turned to glare at her for her obstinacy. "Malfoy, will you for once in your bloody life just stay out of other peoples' business?" he hissed as she stared, jaw slack, at the unchecked emotion in his teary green eyes.

"Potter, you can't expect me to just up and leave when the one person I've never seen lose his cool starts sobbing in front of me," Aurora pointed out.

"I'm not _sobbing_," he snapped, voice rising again. "And I don't care what you _want_ to do. Just leave me the fuck alone." He looked away again.

"It's about your twin, isn't it," Aurora said softly, at last putting two and two together. She'd heard about the fight a few days ago after she'd complained about Stella Potter's outburst in Hogsmeade to Emma at breakfast and her friend Nina Nadif, whose brother was a Slytherin and played Quidditch with the Potters, had leaned in to explain that perhaps Stella Potter was in a worse frame of mind than normal. And just now, Potter had only fully lost it at the mention of his twin.

Potter turned to look at Aurora, but to her utter amazement, he didn't yell at her, only stared at her as tears began to well up in those gorgeous emerald eyes once more.

Brow furrowing in concern, she put her hand back to his shoulder. This time Potter didn't push her away, he just turned his head again.

Aurora sighed and got up, taking a seat next to him.

"She'll forgive you, Potter," she said cautiously. "If you can convince me in one afternoon that you might have a heart after all, then I'm sure your sister's well aware of how much you care about her."

"That's just it," Potter choked out. "I'm a horrible brother. I fucking control her life when I'm only trying to protect her, and then I lash out at her when she comes to me for help. I'm the worst older brother there is."

Aurora placed a hand on top of his, clearly surprising him so much that he turned to face her, wide-eyed. "I think she's lucky to have a brother that loves her so much," she said honestly.

Somewhat recovered, Potter snorted, still sniffling a little. "You don't understand. I'm awful to her. But I can't help it! It gets so fucking hard sometimes! No one has any idea what it's like…"

"I would if you told me," Aurora said quietly, holding her breath.

"There's times I just can't stand it," he managed to say, swiping at his eyes. "I know everyone wants to be one of the powerful Slytherins, but it's just too much fucking pressure sometimes. Everyone thinks I've got it so good, but I can fucking tell you there are times I'd give it all up just to have my parents back, so I could just be a regular kid. Mum's gone and Dad's never home, and I've got to be strong for Stell, because she can't handle it all on her own, but what about me?" He stared at Aurora, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Everyone thinks I'm never scared, never worried, but it's not always like that! I'm scared shitless I'll lose Stella too, or I'll do something to hurt her. And that's just what I've done now! It's what I'm always doing! I get so caught up, because I can't let anyone see my weakness. The school has come to expect it…I've got to always keep up this cold, uncaring persona…you don't know what it's like, Malfoy, you don't…"

Aurora didn't even think, she just threw her arms around him. "Oh, James, I'm sorry," she murmured into his shoulder. He sat stiffly, probably in shock, but Aurora didn't draw back. She didn't know why she felt so sorry about always fighting with him, when he was always the one provoking her, or why she cared that he was upset about him and his twin not speaking. But she did. There was that Gryffindor in her coming out again—always decent, always forgiving.

And even now, in the thick of her own distress and worry over her mother, she couldn't help but recognize another in need and do what she could to try to make them feel better. Sometimes she annoyed herself with her nature's infuriating refusal to turn her back on anyone in trouble like this, enemy or not.

"Everyone expects so bloody much of me," he whispered again, his chin finally falling tiredly onto her shoulder. He was giving in at last, surrendering. James Potter was surrendering. The fact somehow distressed Aurora.

Then, with a slight and reassuring return to normal behavior, he jerked away, but he stared at her with the wide-eyed, lost expression of a frightened child. He really was no different from anyone else. He just knew how to hide his feelings, but then when they all bottled up to the point of bursting, he exploded, too—and with unnatural ferocity. Potter watched her warily, as if she had backed him into a corner, and he was waiting to find out just what she was going to do to him.

Aurora shook her head slowly, and put a hand to his cheek. "They don't, really," she said soothingly. "No one would blame you for feeling helpless once in a while."

"That's just it!" Potter burst out again. "I'm James fucking Potter! No one can see me cry! No one can know that I get unsure of myself sometimes! This is how I wanted it; this is what path I chose when I accepted the Slytherin way." He suddenly glared at her, and Aurora shrunk back, feeling her insides jump again. Merlin, the boy was bipolar! "And you'd better not fucking tell _anyone_ about this, Malfoy, and I mean _anyone_, you understand? I'm entitled to my fucking privacy, and you are not going to try and start some bloody rumor about me. No one would fucking believe you, anyway." Potter sneered at her, rage and utter contempt evident in his expression.

Aurora scowled. "Right, because that's obviously the sort of thing I'd do," she snapped in annoyance. Here she was trying to console the jerk, and all he was interested in was screaming at her. "But you do need help, Potter," she added with a pointed look. Maybe he didn't want support from her, but clearly he was dealing with some issues.

"Leave me alone! I don't need your merciful Gryffindor crap. Just let me do what I bloody want," he spat.

"What you want is to be miserable?" Aurora exclaimed incredulously. "Don't try to deny it, Potter. You just said it yourself—you hate all the pressure."

Potter glared at her. "Don't you Gryffindors ever listen? Just because the pressure gets to me sometimes, doesn't mean I'm about to turn into a fucking Hufflepuff _pansy_ and start telling you all my goddamn feelings! Much as I know it's your only purpose in life to help a Slytherin repent, I'm not going to be the one to clear your bloody conscience. So go snog Owens or something, and give me some space."

Aurora laughed unkindly. "You're the one that broke into _my_ privacy, Potter," she said, much as she knew provoking him into a petty fight right now was not exactly the wisest course of action. "I was doing fine out here all alone until _you_ came butting in."

She watched with mounting incredulity as he put a hand over his eyes, and looked away, as if in pain. "Just leave, Malfoy," he said, and it was almost a plea. No wiseass comments about how she had in fact _not_ been doing fine out here without him, nor about how he'd been gracious enough to check that she was alright both now and earlier in the hallway.

Aurora's jaw dropped, and she forgot about her impatience with him. "James, really, if there's something I can do…" she began, trailing off.

Potter didn't answer, but his hand dropped, and Aurora saw a single tear running down his porcelain cheek.

She instinctively reached over and wiped it away. Damn that caring Gryffindor spirit of hers! She should not be forgetting the fact that this was still James Potter in front of her, and sooner or later, he would get over it all on his own. Not to mention that leaving him to get over it on his own would probably have spared her some of Potter's nasty insults and time wasted on an ultimately unapologetic, irreversible jackass.

Still, she couldn't just bloody ignore his distress. Aurora sighed. "James," she began hesitantly, and his head flipped around to stare at her incredulously at her continued usage of his first name. But he didn't say anything, so she continued. "I don't think any less of you after knowing all this," she said. "And I bloody despise you." She laughed hollowly. "If anyone should jump at the chance to hold something against you, it should be me. But you know, other people helping you through things like this isn't such a bad thing." She paused to look seriously at him. "Potter…today I found out something about you…and I think it's changed my opinion of you for the better."

Potter snorted. "There was nowhere to go but up," he muttered.

Aurora smiled sardonically. "But the important thing is that it _has_ gone up," she said, pleased that he was actually listening. "Potter, I had no idea there was this side to you!" she exclaimed. "Sure, I knew you cared about your twin, and there's all that Slytherin loyalty crap, but I never knew how deep the feelings were. All I'd ever seen was cruelty and detachment—I never knew how _vulnerable_ you could be."

An annoyed look appeared on his face, and Aurora sped up to reach her point.

"So why is it such a bad thing for someone who thought you were the coldest, most unfeeling bastard in the entire country to change their mind some?" she asked, putting a hand to his shoulder.

Potter was silent for a long while. "Not the entire world?" he said at last.

"What?"

"You didn't think I was the coldest, most unfeeling bastard in the entire world?" he repeated. "That's a little insulting, Malfoy." But a small smirk was creeping onto his lips.

A slow grin began to crawl onto Aurora's face as well. "Maybe the entire continent," she said with a laugh. "But I think you're big-headed enough for me to leave it at that."

Potter hid his smile. Then he looked down at his hands in his lap and sighed.

"Malfoy…Aurora." He spoke hesitantly, as if what he had to say were causing him physical pain. "I—I…I really have been a bastard to you, haven't I," he finished in a rush.

"Uh-huh," Aurora said, nodding and eyeing him.

"Well then, uh, maybe I'll cut you a little slack and, uh, not bite your head off for trying to make me into a touchy-feely Slytherin sap," he said hurriedly.

It was almost like an apology, and probably the best she'd ever get from James Potter. Aurora couldn't help but smile. "Okay," she agreed, flushing a little for some reason. But what was eternally shocking was to see Potter's own cheeks tinge pink. Was Potter…_blushing_? She shot him a sly look. "Are you saying you're going to pass up an opportunity to make fun of a Gryffindor?" she said teasingly, trying not to think about the reason she'd embarrassed herself by dissolving into tears in front of Potter—her mother's attack. "Even after all the great material I've given you?"

Potter snorted. "Don't think I've forgotten all that, love," he sniggered. "I'll whip it out when you least expect it." But for some reason, Aurora knew he wouldn't. Maybe they weren't friends, but they'd come to a sort of understanding. He knew exactly what she was feeling right now. He'd been there. It was too low even for Potter to mock her about the pain associated with a parent in danger.

"Well, I agreed not to tell anyone about your sob session over here," she went on loftily, carrying on the joke.

Potter smirked at her. "I told you, Malfoy, no one would bloody believe you anyway," he said smugly.

She felt her mood plummet. So much for playful banter. "You really are an inconsiderate prick, you know that?" she snapped irritably, unable to help herself.

But his reaction surprised her.

"God, Malfoy," James sighed, running his hands over his face as if trying to erase the tear streaks, and then raking them upward and through his hair yet again so it stood up in tufts that Aurora, although furious with herself for admitting it, couldn't deny were rather adorable. "Do you think we've ever had a conversation that hasn't ended in an argument?"

Aurora glowered at him. "No."

James shook his head. "That's a shame. I wonder why we can't discuss anything rationally."

"Maybe because you can't decide whether to call me Aurora or Malfoy?"

James frowned at her. "Maybe because of your sarcasm?"

The two glared at each other for a moment.

Finally, Aurora sighed. "Well, make up your mind, then."

James looked at her in confusion. "About what?"

A small smile pulled at Aurora's lips. "My name. Are we going to be friends, or enemies?"

James studied her, head tilted to one side. Finally he smiled, a true smile, and stuck out his hand. "Friends…Aurora."

Aurora's heart jumped at the sight of his rare smile but took his hand. "Friends," she agreed.

"Shall we start over, then?" James asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Aurora nodded, a smile forming on her lips.

"James Henry Potter at your service, miss," he told her, standing and bowing formally. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Aurora giggled, letting him take her hand and place a gentle kiss on it. "Aurora Celeste Malfoy," she answered, rising to curtsy and feeling a blush work its way into her pale cheeks. "And I feel the pleasure is all mine."

James's face lit up, making Aurora's heart beat faster.

_I can't believe this is happening_, she thought in amazement.

* * *

Back in the castle once more, James walked step-in-step through the corridors with Malfoy, completely astounded and also rather disgusted with himself at the feeling of contentment washing over him. Things were looking so much brighter, suddenly—he was going to win this stupid bet, and Stella was going to forgive him, he just knew it. He'd tell her what Malfoy had said about their dad's return to the country and his rescue of the Minister of Magic; she'd be so relieved to hear something of his whereabouts.

As the pair slowly made their way through the deserted corridors—by now, everyone was at lunch—in a bizarrely companionable silence, James felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him. _Maybe those stupid Gryffindors are on to something_, he thought with unnatural cheerfulness. After all, just talking about what was bothering him had helped ease that emotional load on his chest.

But he couldn't help but reflect on how strange it was that they should be walking through the school together as if they had never been enemies. How had they become so downright civil—friendly, even—in the course of one afternoon? Sure, James had wanted to get close to her for the bet, get her to trust him, but was that all? Maybe that was the main reason he'd followed her into the courtyard, but he'd also felt a strange rapport with her since learning of the attack on her mother. And now, after his fucking pathetic outpouring of pent-up emotions that he'd been unable to stave off, James couldn't fight a sneaking suspicion that his motives also stemmed from her treatment of him back out in the courtyard. She'd taken time to make sure her archenemy was alright, even when he'd continued being his bastard self to her. How many other girls would do something like that, and not in hopes of getting into his pants?

One, and her name was Stella.

That made Aurora very rare indeed. Such a thoughtful, caring girl didn't come along everyday. And it didn't hurt that she was rather lovely on top of it all. He might end up actually enjoying this bet.

But James frowned as he thought of what Aiden's reaction to this truce might be. He could see his best friend's disbelieving expression and imagine him saying, "You've befriended a _Gryffindor_? Are you mad?"

James groaned inwardly. _But it's all part of my plan for the bet_, he assured himself. _It's not like I'm getting attached or anything. Sure, we bonded a little over the mother thing, but I've got it all under control. And for a wimp-lover like Malfoy, those tears must have been a total turn-on._ James looked over at Malfoy and she smiled faintly at him, unknowingly causing James's knees to buckle a little. He wanted to shake himself at his response to her slight action. What was up with this fucking pansy-ass behavior? _I'm _not_ weak_, he thought stubbornly. _She can't have this sort of effect on me…It's just because she helped me feel so much better, and now I'm actually grateful for Aurora bloody Malfoy. That's all it is…_

As if she could hear his internal struggle and sought to confuse him as much as possible, Malfoy moved the slightest bit closer to him and put her hand on his arm to halt him. "Listen James," she said uncertainly, and for the first time it occurred to James that while his own mood had been drastically improved, Malfoy's had surely plummeted since he'd quit distracting her with his jackass tendencies.

She looked hesitant, her hand still lightly on his arm and staring vaguely off to the right. "I think I'm going to go…"

James, immediately concerned, put his hands on her shoulders. "You alright?" he asked earnestly, looking at her searchingly. He was furiously suppressing the voice in his head shouting, _What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter? Leave the girl alone! Who cares if she's upset? Just try to protect some of the dignity you've got left, for Merlin's sake._

She nodded, but she looked anything but alright.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, but she shook her head and gave him a feeble smile.

"I'm feeling a lot better since we had a chance to talk," she said softly, looking down at her feet. "I think I just am going to head to my dorm and be alone for a little while," she added, facing him again.

James nodded, but he eyed her uncertainly. It was rapidly occurring to him that her feeling better should most definitely not be the case—he'd fully hijacked the attention and gone all weepy when she was the one hurting. "Listen, I know I kind of hogged the conversation…" he began weakly. Was he bloody apologizing to Aurora Malfoy? What was the fucking matter with him? "Let me know if you need to, er, talk or anything," he finished awkwardly, raking a hand through his hair to try to get out some of this nervous energy.

Malfoy shook her head as if to reject the idea that he'd stolen her thunder, and offered a half-hearted smile. "Thanks for everything, James," she said quietly, finally gazing straight at him, and James felt his heart jump to his throat when her warm gray eyes locked on his.

Without thinking, James flung his arms around her and held her close. "She'll be alright, Aurora," he whispered, then drew back as quickly as he'd advanced, a steady stream of censure looping in the back of his head. _HOW DARE YOU BLOODY HUG HER?_

Malfoy looked rather stunned but she nodded dumbly. "See you around, James," she said with a small smile before turning to head to her dorm.

As James watched her retreating back, he couldn't help the wave of concern that came over him. He was fucking worried about her.

_Toughen up, Potter. She'll turn you into a bloody pansy if you're not careful_…

* * *

Stella had watched her brother disappear out of Charms, and felt her mood continue to nosedive with each passing moment that he did not return to class.

That inconsiderate, halfwit _jerk_.

Here she was, going insane over his refusal to forgive her, and he was sneaking out of class, no doubt to go bang some brainless twit.

She rapped on her desk with her quill tip, unaware of how disruptive she must have been until Aiden grabbed her hand. "You do that one more time," he said out of the corner of his mouth, "I'll fucking murder you, Potter."

Stella suppressed a giggle. She couldn't imagine him harming even one hair on her head.

Aiden shot her a warning look and she smiled guiltily back. "Fine," she mumbled, letting the quill drop.

Aiden broke into his trademark lopsided grin and elbowed her affectionately. "Thanks, Spots," he whispered. Flitwick turned in their direction, but the pair quickly pretended to be taking diligent notes and he looked away once more.

Stella stifled another giggle, and Aiden grabbed her hand and fixed her with an exaggerated admonitory look, which only caused her to shake harder with suppressed laughs. Merlin, it was lucky she had him. What would she have done if every time James got angry with her, Aiden sided with him? Or if she'd never been close to him in the first place? Camila, Laurel, Theodora, and Naomi didn't make for the most comforting of roommates—she wouldn't even go so far as to call them her friends.

Class ended without James returning, a realization which fouled Stella's mood once more, but she let Aiden jovially hustle her to lunch and then into afternoon classes. But James didn't turn up for those, either. For the first time, she started to worry that perhaps something was wrong. As she listened vaguely to Trelawney's moronic lecture on her latest superstitious mumbo-jumbo, Stella's mind wandered. Where was James? Was he upset by their fight and didn't want to be around her? Was he just messing around with some stupid bint? Had she done something to make him so furious with her that it wasn't worth trying to concentrate on any lessons?

Her spirits sunk lower and lower. James had missed all of Divination and then Politics of Magic (although she couldn't really blame him, Professor Fudge was absolutely intolerable on his very best days). When dinnertime rolled around, Stella turned to Aiden. "I'm just going to go straight to the Great Hall and grab something quickly," she said, sighing. "I need to get to some homework I've been putting off."

Aiden looked suspicious but nodded. "I'll be in the commons if you need me, Stell," he said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently.

Stella felt her heart flutter for a moment, but she just nodded back. "Thanks, Aid," she mumbled then turned and hurried off, hoping to get her dinner before James arrived in the Great Hall.

* * *

James didn't bother going back to his afternoon classes. He instead spent the afternoon forcing himself to do homework as he waited anxiously for lessons to end and his sister to return to the dorms before dinner. At last, he strode purposefully down to the common room, looking around for his sister. But he only saw Aiden, talking with Tommy and Dom Fletcher.

"Black," he said, walking up to his best friend. "Seen my twin?"

Aiden shook his head. "I think she was grabbing a quick dinner so she could get some homework done," he told him.

James groaned. "I have to speak with her," he muttered.

Aiden rolled his eyes. "About bloody time," he said, his usual lopsided grin appearing on his face. "I'm sick sitting between you two in the Great Hall and having to speak to each of you in turn."

James elbowed him, and Aiden's grin widened. "Fuck off," he retorted lightly. He left the dungeons in search of his twin. After checking for her in the Great Hall, library, and the Owlry, he gave up and returned to the Great Hall to have a quick dinner of his own. He'd look for her in the Slytherin dormitories later.

* * *

When Aurora reached Gryffindor Tower, she curled up under her covers in a strange sort of stupor. Vague recollections of her strange encounter with Potter floated before her eyes every now and then, but for the most part all she could think of was her mother. She stayed in bed all afternoon and into the evening, alternately breaking into sobs and staring unseeingly at her curtains as the daylight shifted. Until, well after sundown, she heard hesitant steps come into her room.

"Ror?" Marcus's low voice came gently, but Aurora did not respond.

A moment later, the curtains had been pushed back and Marcus wordlessly crawled into bed with Aurora and hugged her tightly from behind.

Aurora had thought she'd wanted to be alone, but held tight by Marcus's comforting grasp, she felt the tightness in her chest lessen just the slightest bit.

"Dumbledore told me," Marcus whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry, Ror. Do you need anything?"

Aurora shook her head, but finally felt herself relax enough to drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Aiden, I just wanted to apologize again for getting angry with you last week," Laurel cooed as she clung to the boy and stared up at him from beneath her lashes. "You'll come see me again tonight, right?"

"Right," Aiden said tersely. "But I've got to see about something, okay, Laur?" He didn't wait for her response but instead detached himself from her and strode across the room, pushing past clusters of Slytherins to meet Stella, who had just made her way down into the common room, looking extremely depressed.

"Aiden! _Aiden_!"

Aiden ignored Laurel and went up to Stella.

"Your brother's looking for you," he informed her.

She nodded silently.

"You okay?"

She nodded again, but she looked miserable.

Aiden pulled her over to the stairs and sat her down before placing himself next to her.

"What's up?"

She shrugged, looking at her feet. "I'm fine," she said evasively.

He eyed her suspiciously before she launched herself at him, burying her head into his shoulder, although she wasn't crying. Eyes widening in surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly with a gentle hand.

"Shh," he murmured in her ear. "It's okay."

"It's not," she mumbled dolefully into his shirt. "I wish this fucking fight had never happened. James is _never_ going to speak to me!"

"That's not true," Aiden whispered firmly, kissing the top of her head softly. "He was looking for you. He wants to set things right."

"Knowing him, I've done something else to make him mad, and he just wants to yell at me some more," she said bitterly, turning her head so it rested on Aiden's shoulder and her forehead leaned comfortably against his neck. "And then he'll go back to ignoring me." She swiped at her slightly teary eyes and sniffled loudly.

"I don't think so," Aiden said, rubbing the hand he had on her back up and down her spine comfortingly. "I think he's finally figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

Aiden looked down at her to find her staring up at him with a lost, childlike look on her face. He smiled softly, and poked her nose gently with a finger. "What a moron he's being, of course," he chuckled quietly, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Stella nodded, relaxing into a small smile that made Aiden's stomach jump violently. "What would I do without you?" she said, laughing to herself sheepishly.

Aiden smirked, but his stomach was flip-flopping like crazy. "Have to cry into Camila's shoulder?" he teased.

Stella looked horrified, her emerald eyes wide. "Don't even joke about that," she warned him with mock seriousness.

Aiden smiled slyly.

"You always manage to distract me," she mused suddenly. "How is it you do that so well?"

Aiden shrugged. "I _have_ known you all your life," he pointed out, smiling in amusement.

Stella smiled, nodding before she pressed herself against him once more in a grateful embrace. "Thanks, Aid," she whispered, then pulled back to peck him on the cheek before she disentangled herself from him and, jumping up, raced up the stairs into her room.

Aiden touched his cheek. _You can't be falling for her, Black. Get a grip on yourself._

* * *

"Stella," James whispered as he crept up to his twin's bed that night. He pulled back the curtain gently to see her sleeping peacefully. Well that was good, he may have affected her appetite but at least she was still getting to sleep alright. "Stella, wake up."

She groaned a little, but James pulled her up, and soon he had her sitting up, legs hanging over the side of the bed as she squinted at him. He wasn't even sure if she was actually aware of what was going on. But he had to try.

"I had to wake you up. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry, Stell-belle. I know I was being a jerk, and I know you did nothing wrong. It was just me and my stupid pride. I want you to know I found out Dad's alright; he's in the country, he just helped rescue the Minister from an attack." Stella started falling to one side, and James quickly reached forward to steady her. "Malfoy told me;" he continued, "I talked to her and she told me about the attack and Dad…" James took his sister's hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry, Stell. Really, I am. I know I'm stubborn and hard to get along with, but I want you to know that I love you."

Stella threw her arms around James suddenly. "I love you too, James," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

James let out a sigh of relief and hugged his twin back.

"I'm sorry, too, James," she murmured into his neck.

James shook his head. "Don't be. It was my fault."

Stella smiled. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" she teased. "First you say sorry, then you say it was all your fault, and you're still so bloody cheerful!"

James chuckled. "I just realized what a prat I was being," he said, smiling faintly at the thought of cathartic, heartfelt talk with Aurora.

_Oh, Merlin_, he thought, _you _are_ starting to enjoy this truce. You bloody sap_…

Stella hugged him again. "Thanks for finding out about Dad," she said. "I was worrying again."

"What else is new?" James joked, rolling his eyes.

Stella socked him with her pillow. "Stupid git."

James grinned. "That's me."

"How did you ever get Malfoy to tell you anything?" Stella whispered as they swaddled themselves up under the many layers of covers in her bed.

James shrugged. "Just asked her," he said simply, not ready to divulge the details of the attack on Malfoy's mum and just how dire the situation was. He didn't think they'd have had nearly the same conversation if her mother hadn't been hurt quite so badly.

Stella looked doubtful. "After all the stuff we've pulled on her, she still did you a favor?"

"Yup."

"Wow," Stella said, almost mockingly, "I guess she's even more the noble Gryffindor than we originally thought." She grinned.

James smirked back. "No kidding."

"But I'm glad she did," Stella said, sighing and leaning her back against her brother's chest. She smiled when she felt James's arm tighten around her as he nodded his head against her back. "This was our longest fight ever," she said suddenly.

James nodded against her once more. "I'm usually too stubborn to apologize, and you do it first."

Stella giggled. "Are you admitting that every fight has been your fault?"

James tickled her side, making her jerk away, exploding into giggles—he knew her weakness to tickling as well as Aiden did, and used it to his advantage. "Of course not," he told her as she snorted, trying to stop laughing.

"James!" she squealed as he tickled her once more. She swatted him away and settled herself so she was facing her twin. James watched her intently, his emerald eyes bright. "What?" she asked, looking up at him with identical green orbs.

James smiled. "Nothing," he told her. "Goodnight, Stell."

Stella smiled contentedly and nestled herself against her twin. "'Night, big brother," she mumbled sleepily. "Love you."

James kissed her forehead softly. "Love you, too."

* * *

Please review!


	7. Touch and Go

Chapter Seven: Touch and Go

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat hunched over in a chair in the hospital waiting room, a crushed, long-empty paper coffee cup clenched in his right fist while his left hand gripped the armrest tensely. Replaying before his eyes was the expression on Hermione's face as he'd brought her to St. Mungo's: her features had been scrunched up with pain, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and though unconscious, she'd continued to let out moans that left Draco terrified. With each passing moment that he was left alone out here to his thoughts, the sick knot of dread in his stomach grew larger.

At last, Draco heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see a Healer stride from the emergency ward, chart in hand. He faced him expectantly for an update.

"It's touch and go," the Healer said bluntly, shaking his head as he flipped through some test results on the chart. "She's been through a terrible trauma."

Draco stood up. "What exactly is wrong?" he demanded, feeling his features contort menacingly. He had the unfortunate habit, which his daughter all too frequently exhibited as well, of getting angry with anyone he came in contact with when he was worried. And he was really fucking worried right now.

"Her gut and head wounds are causing us trouble," the Healer, who had earlier introduced himself as Donovan Holloway, told him. "But the Minister is getting the best care possible," he assured Draco.

"What sort of trouble?" Draco growled. "Is it curable? Can you do anything?"

"We're doing as much as we can, Mr. Malfoy."

"Which is?"

"Well, we can't just reverse the spells," Holloway said slowly. "We're trying to get her vitals under control."

Vitals under control! They couldn't even maintain that? Draco swallowed hard, then glared at the other man.

"And if you get them stabilized?" he said gruffly.

"We'll try what we can to wake her up," Holloway replied. "We're still not sure what spells she got hit with, so we can't treat her specific injuries immediately."

"And if the vitals aren't stabilized?" Draco barked, even though he was positive he didn't want to hear the answer.

"She'll die," Holloway said shortly.

"Then what the bloody hell are you doing out here talking to me?" Draco burst out angrily. "Go back in and help my wife!" he snapped.

The Healer nodded and, turning on his heel, left Draco standing in the waiting room.

* * *

"Wake up, Rora," a soft voice said as Aurora felt a gentle shake try to rouse her. Aurora tried to pry her eyes open, finally succeeding and looking up to see Marcus peering at her worriedly. It took her a moment to figure out why Marcus had slept in her bed, but then with a start, the terrible events of the day before came rushing back to her.

"Mum!" she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

"Shh," Marcus said, pushing her back gently. "How are you feeling?"

Aurora gnawed her lip nervously, trying to recall everything Dumbledore had said yesterday. Her first instinct was to track him down and demand he give her a detailed update, but as her mind cleared, she realized it was no use trying to find him; he'd said he'd let her know as soon as there was a change in her mother's condition.

"Ror? Ror, talk to me. How are you feeling?" Marcus watched her with heightening concern.

Aurora glanced at him vaguely, still rather distracted by her thoughts.

"Rors, _how are you feeling_?"

She looked at him blankly for a moment, as if she'd only now heard the several times repeated question. "Like I got hit by a truck," she answered truthfully. After a battle between her unsettled, nervous thoughts and her extreme exhaustion, it appeared that with Marcus's arrival, she'd calmed down enough to let her tiredness win out, and had fallen asleep. But she'd slept fitfully; dreams of her mother in pain had haunted her all night long.

Marcus laughed hollowly.

"What time is it?"

Marcus glanced at his wristwatch. "Six-thirty," he told her. "We have a while 'till everyone wakes up for breakfast." He yawned, stretching and covering his opened mouth lightly with the back of a hand.

Aurora groaned and began to stretch as well, trying to work out the kinks that sleeping in a scrunched fetal position in Marcus's arms had left in her back and shoulders. "Why'd you wake me up then, you prat?" she growled.

"You looked like you were having a bad dream."

Aurora nodded solemnly then threw her arms around Marcus gratefully. "You're the best, Marcus," she whispered.

Marcus smiled fondly and hugged the girl back. "I know," he said lightly, trying to ease her nerves.

She half-smiled, chin still rested on Marcus's shoulder, and with a sigh let herself lean on him until she felt ready to leave bed and face the day.

* * *

James woke with a start, confused as to where he was until he heard Stella moan softly in her sleep. He smiled as his twin rolled over, her back to him as she inhaled deeply. She was still completely asleep, so James let himself relax again, staring up at the canopy as he reflected on all that had happened the day before. He'd befriended Aurora Malfoy.

He'd bloody befriended Aurora Malfoy.

What the fucking hell was wrong with him?

James sighed and raked a hand through his hair, cringing as he considered all he had told Malfoy. He'd let loose about a lot more than he should have. Letting her know those things…well, it was a recipe for getting attached. And James Potter didn't get attached.

So he'd needed a replacement Stella last night. Someone to talk to and let his emotions out to, who would listen and not think the less of him for it. The stress of having his twin upset with him and of feeling by and large overwhelmed both by how much he missed his parents and by the pressure to be exactly who the student body, the Harry-Potter-and-family-worshiping Wizarding world, and his sister wanted and needed him to be. He was allowed to lose it once in a while, wasn't he?

He groaned to himself. Sure, he was allowed. Just not in front of anyone. And most especially not Aurora Malfoy.

But she'd happened to be at the right place at the right time, and he'd revealed more to her than he'd probably ever even shown to his best friend…but then, he and Aiden hadn't spent as much time together as they used to…that was another reason for his weep-aganza the night before, no doubt. Since the bet, and since Aiden had for some reason stopped dating and decided to chain himself to his homework, they'd had a different relationship from ever before. Okay, and yes they'd _sort_ of talked about it, and Aiden had made a half-assed effort at starting to behave like his old self. He was sleeping with Laurel again, anyway. But still, the sentiment behind it worried James…why was Aiden not bothering to date anyone in the first place? James knew things would be better if they could just get back to their usual double act, get back to joking, sneering, and breaking hearts. To being the badass Slytherin duo they had always been.

James shook his head to himself. He wasn't going to dwell on that. Things weren't really that bad between them, and he hoped all he would have to do was get Aiden to start lusting over some sexy Ravenclaw, not obligation-banging Laurel.

James's _real_ problem was that he'd shown vulnerability to his enemy.

_Well…I do need to get close to her to win that bet_, he reasoned meekly.

_And you're a fucking _pansy_,_ the voice in his head pointed out bluntly.

Well, yes, and that. But it was true; this would help him win the bet. Because in order to get close to a girl like Malfoy, he needed to earn her trust, a process that had probably gotten a jumpstart from last night. So that was all good and fine.

Then what the fuck was bothering him right now? He felt odd, shaken up, invaded.

With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he realized what his problem was.

_Oh, shit_, he thought helplessly, closing his eyes as if that action could help him to forget the realization.

It was that he had liked being close to Malfoy.

She bloody infuriated him, and she was truly the most disgustingly responsible teenager he'd ever heard of, but he had found her presence comfortable, soothing, reassuring. He was looking forward to becoming Aurora Celeste Malfoy's friend.

He was fucking insane.

Beside him, Stella took another sharp breath, and James knew she was at last waking up. Distracted from his thoughts, he smiled to himself as he watched his sister—reveling in the fact that she wasn't mad at him anymore. She groaned quietly, her head pushing deeper against the pillow. With a mischievous grin, James put out a hand to tickle her, but upon contact, Stella's arm jerked out, hitting him squarely on the head.

"Merlin, Stell!" he exclaimed, wincing as he rubbed is forehead where several rings she wore had left painful indents.

"Huh?" Stella murmured sleepily. "James?"

James mock glared at her. "Look what you did, you brat," he accused, pointing at his forehead.

Stella clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Jamesey!" she cried, launching herself at him in exaggerated remorse. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, trying unsuccessfully to suppress an amused grin.

James socked her with a pillow.

Stella broke out into giggles. "Wimp."

James shot her another glare. "Stupid bitch," he muttered, turning away from her.

Stella giggled harder.

"Stella?"

Stella and James both froze when they heard the sleepy voice of Laurel Parkinson-Pucey. James's mouth twisted into a wicked smirk and, eyes gleaming mischievously, he motioned for Stella to pretend he wasn't there.

"Yeah?" she called, James grinning in amusement as he recognized she was trying to sound as if she were still half-asleep and hadn't been rudely tickled awake.

Stella stuck her tongue out at him.

"Who're you talking to?" Laurel's voice was wavering between suspicion and incredulity.

"What?" Stella asked, playing dumb.

There was a pause.

"Is someone in there with you?"

"What?" Stella exclaimed. "No! Of _course_ there's no one in here with me!"

"Yeah," another voice said through a gigantic yawn. Camila Zabini. "When's the last time Potter had a boyfriend?"

Stella frowned angrily.

"Never, maybe?" Theodora Avery laughed with the careless tone of voice that only a girl who'd never ever had any troubles finding a boyfriend could possess.

James placed a half-comforting, half-restraining hand on Stella's arm.

"I—" Stella began, faltering slightly, "I must have been talking in my sleep."

"Oh, Stella, you're so adorable," Camila said affectionately through another yawn. "When will you let me set you up with Tommy?"

"Tommy's mine, bitch," Theodora said, her voice muffled like her face was pressed into her pillow.

"Oh, right."

Stella couldn't help but crack a grin. The couple had been dating for a year at least.

"Cole Hargrove, then. He's gorgeous, but he's kind of quiet, like you. Oh, Merlin, and he's a twin too. How cute would that be? Will you let me, Stell? _Pleeease_?"

Beside Stella, James was glaring murderously at the idea of his twin dating _anyone_.

"Cam, bloody shut up and let me sleep," Laurel moaned. "It's fucking seven o'clock."

"Beauty sleep's not going to help you any, darling," Camila called back sweetly.

"Shut up, you ugly cow," Laurel mumbled.

"Merlin's bloody beard," James snapped at last. "Is this what girls really talk about? How's a bloke supposed to get any rest? You all are so goddamn _annoying_!"

They could hear Camila, Laurel, and Theodora sit bolt upright in their beds as the bedsprings squeaked slightly and covers were displaced. Stella grinned gleefully at James.

"James?" Camila exclaimed incredulously, jumping out of her bed.

James grimaced at his foolishness, eyeing the curtains enclosing the twins nervously. They were suddenly ripped open and they saw Camila standing there aghast (and half naked), Laurel and Theodora behind her—Naomi Holloway must have spent the night in someone else's bed, James noted with relief. He wasn't quite sure Holloway realized that Camila had much more of a claim on him than she did, and he wasn't keen to spark a catfight this early in the morning.

"What are you doing here, James?" Camila asked at last, a coy smile stealing onto her lips as she carelessly flipped back her gorgeous mane of relaxed dark hair, shaking her head a little to get her long, eyelash-skimming bangs out of her eyes.

"Looking for Camila?" Laurel sniggered with her signature seductive smirk, her own luxurious golden hair escaping in frizzy pieces from the plait that trailed down to the lower part of her back. She wouldn't be caught dead flirting with James Potter if she could have gotten a glimpse of herself in a mirror at that moment, but whatever un-made-up state she was in, she was still more attractive than three-quarters of the girls at Hogwarts when done up to their very best.

Behind her, even Theodora was fussing with her distinctive strawberry-blonde hair, despite her protective devotion to Tommy Flint.

James rolled his eyes at the primping trio, smiling inwardly when he saw Stella's satisfied smirk. "No way in hell," he sneered at Laurel.

Stella swallowed a laugh, biting down on her lip.

Camila's large brown eyes narrowed. "God, you're a bastard," she snapped impatiently, her bitchy side emerging. "Just get out so we can sleep."

James tipped his head to her in mock salute. "With pleasure, Camila, love. Astronomy Tower tonight?"

"Ugh, in your bloody dreams, Potter," Camila said with disgust, but James knew she'd show. He hopped out of the bed in his boxers, pulling on yesterday's pants and grabbing his shirt from the floor while Camila rolled her eyes in exaggerated annoyance. "I'm out of here, Stells. See you at breakfast," he said, ducking to kiss her cheek. With that, he strode out of the room, leaving the four girls alone.

* * *

"Stella!" Laurel said with a pissy look as soon as James was out of earshot. "What the hell was that? You let James come in our room? And let him _sleep_ in our room?"

"Like it's never happened before," Stella deadpanned with a pointed look at Camila, who flushed. Then she offered a large fake smile at the three as she bounded out of her bed as well. She grabbed a towel and clothes, carelessly calling back to the three girls, "I'm off to shower," as she walked to the bathroom.

The three infuriated glares she got in return made the moment priceless. She whistled lightly and bounced her way up to the showers. After she'd soaped and rinsed herself, she dried off and pulled on her favorite pair of stretchy black pants with a loose gray v-neck, muttering a quick drying spell and then letting her raven hair hang down loosely. She finally made her way to the common room, where James and Aiden stood talking.

"Come on!" she said cheerfully, linking an arm with each of them and leading them out of the dungeons.

"Someone's in a good mood," Aiden said dryly, rolling his eyes.

"Someone's not in a fight with her brother," Stella replied happily, sticking out her tongue. "Couldn't figure that out for yourself, Sherlock?"

Aiden grinned. "You have an answer for everything, don't you?" he mused, chuckling to himself. "Little wiseass."

Stella glared daggers at him, making his grin grow wider.

"I suppose that's our fault, though, isn't it, James?"

James laughed. "Might be," he said fondly, looking at Stella. "But I'd always thought she was smart enough not to be influenced by me."

"Not Stella-belle," Aiden sniggered, eyeing her sidelong. "She's too much like you—has to screw things up for herself before she figures something out."

"Ahem. I _am_ here, you know."

"Exactly—what better way to get something through that thick skull of yours than by pissing you off?" Aiden said, his grin dangerously wide by now.

She glowered at him and halted. "Watch your mouth, Black," she growled, leaning in so her face was right in front of his, her grip on James's arm loosened so she could reach.

"What're you going to do about it, Potter?" he said, a brow quirking upward and not moving a centimeter away from her.

They were so close Stella could feel his breath on her cheek. "Let's just say it's not wise to upset the person who knows you used to have a lisp," she said with a cheeky grin.

"That's rich, coming from the girl who slept with a grubby stuffed horse until she was thirteen," he said with a roll of those heart-stopping icy blue eyes of his, but his cheeks had tinged pink. "And would have kept sleeping with, if we hadn't taken action." He shot her a cocky smirk, then his expression froze as he caught sight of Stella's rapidly darkening face.

"I knew it!" she screeched, pulling her arms from where they linked elbows with each of the boys and stamping her foot angrily. "I knew you two bloody took him! And you tried to blame it on the bloody house-elves!"

"Way to bloody go, Black," James laughed. "I thought we finally had her convinced it wasn't us."

"Shut up, James, I'll get to you later," Stella snarled with a quick look back at her twin before turning back to Aiden. "I can't believe you lied to me! I was devastated! I cried my eyes out for days!"

"Oh, come on—we did it with your best interests at heart!" Aiden protested, but he was trying hard not to laugh, as was James.

"Best interests, my ass!"

"Come on, Stell," Aiden said, suppressing a smile, "it happened years ago."

"Where the bloody hell is Splotch? What did you two do with him? If you ripped him apart, I swear, Aiden, I bloody _swear_—"

"Splotch!" Aiden repeated with a hoot, glancing at James, who was cracking up as well. "I forgot that was its name! I can't believe you named a fucking solid colored horse Splotch!"

"_I…was…bloody…two…years…old_," she said through gritted teeth, emerald eyes flashing. "Now what the hell did you do with him?"

"Relax, Stells," James laughed, grabbing her head and kissing her cheek. "Have you even thought of the brute since we did away with it? Just take it easy, will you?"

"_Did away with it_?" she shrieked in horror. "Tell me you didn't hit him with spells, James…" she whimpered.

"Merlin, Stell," Aiden said, looking almost alarmed at her reaction. "We're sorry, okay? He's up in James's closet, or something. Might have some battle scars, though," he said, grimacing a little at James, who smirked back. Aiden put his arm around her shoulder, but she slapped him away.

He smiled.

"Stop smiling," Stella snapped. "You kidnapped my horse! I bitched out an innocent house-elf because of you two!"

At this, both boys burst out in uncontrollable laughter. Stella watched them furiously for a few moments before she realized she couldn't keep from grinning. The whole situation was hilarious, really. And how could she be in a bad mood when she wasn't in a fight with James anymore? She started laughing too.

"Stella, this is why I love you," Aiden said, slinging an arm around her shoulders as the three began walking again. "You're the only person that can recognize that there's always good intentions behind mine and James's actions and forgive us." He shot her a grin.

She felt her heart jump dangerously. "I let you two get away with so much," she grumbled, but her insides were flip-flopping.

_What's wrong with me?_ she thought hotly. Couldn't get a damn hold on her stupid somersaulting stomach and she could feel her heartbeat speeding up.

"I know. And that's why we didn't stop at just hexing the beast."

Her head snapped around to look at him, but she felt her anger melt with the sight of his trademark lopsided grin that showed he was joking.

_Damn him_, she growled to herself. _Why does he have to have such a gorgeous smile?_

* * *

James sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, only half-listening as, having moved on from the Splotch row, Aiden and Stella bickered senselessly about where to find the best butterbeer in Hogsmeade.

"It's the Three Broomsticks," Stella insisted with an exasperated look on her face. "_Everyone_ knows that!"

"Everyone's wrong," Aiden said stubbornly. "The Dragon Egg is far better; it's just lesser known," he argued.

Stella groaned in frustration. "Why do I even bother?" she muttered.

Aiden grinned triumphantly. "You'll see," he gloated. "Next Hogsmeade weekend we'll go and you can taste for yourself."

James rolled his eyes and turned his focus on the Gryffindor table, looking around anxiously for Malfoy. Never mind that he was pissed at himself for enjoying the girl's company—she'd been so upset the night before that he hoped she'd heard some good news on her mother's condition since then. He picked at his breakfast, looking up often to look for the blonde girl.

_You're pathetic_, said that damned voice in his head. _Worrying this much about a stupid Gryffindor? Who cares about Malfoy?_

And yet he continued to watch for her. But the mail arrived before she did, and owls abruptly flocked around them. His copy of the _Daily Prophet_ arrived, as did that of many other students. The hall quieted as everyone read the headline: _Attack on Minister of Magic Linked to Escape of Prisoner Lucius Malfoy!_

The entire student body seemed to register the words at once, but before chaos broke out, Dumbledore stood and everyone silenced.

"Good morning," he said gravely. "I see most of you have heard the news. Lucius Malfoy has escaped from Azkaban, and has attacked our Minister of Magic, Hermione Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Aiden repeated, jaw dropping and craning his neck immediately to glance at James' copy of the _Prophet_. "Merlin's bloody beard."

Stella had gone pale. "He's escaped?" she whispered hoarsely. "He got out of Azkaban?"

James just stared at Dumbledore, waiting for him to go on.

"Many of you know the Minister's daughter, Aurora. I would hope that you show her understanding and compassion during this difficult time," the wizard continued. "As for Lucius Malfoy, I want to reassure all of you that you are perfectly safe here at Hogwarts. The Ministry is hunting for him as we speak and the whole country is on alert. Now, please, enjoy your breakfast and go about your business like normal." Dumbledore sat down and began speaking to McGonagall.

Of course, no one could pretend they hadn't just heard the news. All the students, first-years to seventh-years, began discussing the escape, the attack, and Malfoy.

"Poor Aurora," James heard a girl from the adjacent Ravenclaw table exclaim. He recognized her as Midori Tanaka, one of his countless exes. "I wonder where she is. Probably wants to be alone. Poor girl…"

James turned to his newspaper and scanned the article for details, discovering the circumstances of the assault and more about the Minister's condition. He read aloud to Stella and Aiden, "_The Minister is currently in a sleep-like state, struggling and seemingly plagued by nightmares. The head wound, possibly caused by the Cranortus Curse, is what has left the Minister in this condition, but she also suffered injuries to the stomach, lower leg, and forearm…_" James muttered aloud from the article. "_…When the Minister was discovered by her husband and another, she was cornered by at least a half-dozen Death Eaters. She had managed to fight off several on her own, but they proved too many for her, especially once she'd been hit by a hex from the infamous Lucius Malfoy…_"

James put the paper down and glanced at the Gryffindor table. Thomas and Patil-Creevey were talking worriedly with one another, but neither Malfoy nor Weasley were in sight. He sighed and turned back to his twin and Aiden.

"The Cranortus Curse," Aiden said, shaking his head as he looked over James's shoulder to see what he had just read aloud. "I didn't think I'd see the day I felt sorry for Malfoy," he went on. "Fuck it, I'd better check if she's alright before Dad yells at me. No doubt he'll want me to write Uncle Draco as well." Aiden heaved a sigh.

"Pretty shitty situation," James put in noncommittally, although inwardly he was thinking about how much he wanted to do the very same thing—see how Malfoy was holding up. But he didn't have the familial obligation like Aiden did…he was just a sorry-ass baby who didn't want to see her upset. Why were these moronic thoughts taking root so strongly in his brain? He really had to get ahold of himself and fix this idiot behavior.

But he was soon distracted from his noisy thoughts when he noticed his sister's shell-shocked expression.

"Stell?" James asked worriedly. "You okay, Stell?"

Stella looked back at him suddenly. "Sorry?" she said, her voice quiet and with a slight waver.

James leaned closer to her. "Are you alright?" he asked putting his arm around her shoulders.

She nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap. "It's really great Dad helped rescue her," she said finally, facing forward again and her face neutral again.

James nodded as well, but continued to watch her with concern until his attention was grabbed again, this time by the sudden quieting of the Great Hall. James looked up to see Malfoy walk in, Weasley's arm around her shoulders protectively. James almost stood up in jealousy to see him comfort the girl, but he quickly snapped to his senses.

_You can't be jealous of Weasley_, he told himself incredulously. _Besides, what do you care if she's alright? So what if you've declared a truce—you still have to go through with the bet!_

James watched Malfoy freeze in the doorway as everyone turned to look her way. Weasley guided her reassuringly to the Gryffindor table, where she sat down uneasily next to Thomas. Weasley offered her some toast, but she shook her head and, elbows resting on the table, held her chin in her hands. She stared distractedly into space, and James tried to catch the girl's eye. When she finally looked his way, he saw with clarity the pain in her eyes. She looked at him expressionlessly, but he gave her a small smile before turning back to the Slytherins around him.

"You alright now, Stell?" he asked his twin, who was now picking at her eggs, a reassuringly normal antic.

She smiled at him. "I suppose," she said, sighing softly.

"Good," he said, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the Gryffindor sitting across the room. For some reason, he wanted to be the one to comfort her; it had felt good to help her yesterday, and what's more, he owed her for her kindness to him when he'd broken down. His heart clenched painfully when he saw Weasley put his arm around her once more and she lowered her head to his shoulder, burying her face against him.

_Bastard_, he thought angrily, eyeing Weasley. _Why the hell do I wish I were him right now?_

* * *

"Come on, Ror," Marcus urged. "Eat."

Aurora shook her head. "I don't feel like it," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have come down. Everyone's staring."

Marcus put his arm around her reassuringly. "Really, Ror, you should," he said gently.

"I don't care; I'm not hungry," Aurora snapped moodily.

Marcus knew better than to be offended by her remark. "Cool it, Uncle Draco," he said, rolling his eyes.

Aurora winced to herself. "Sorry," she said heavily, and slumped down on the table, lying her head down on her forearms. She sighed as she saw Marcus pick up an apple and begin slicing it, and grudgingly took a piece when he offered it to her. She gnawed on it sideways, head still on the table, and looked up at him. "Thanks, Marcus," she said softly.

He shook his head briskly, as if to say the idea of her needing to thank him was preposterous. "Stop," he told her firmly, and handed her another piece off the apple. "Eat."

Aurora did as she was told.

She slowly worked her way through the rest of the apple, still too pathetic to raise her head from the table, until she heard a familiar voice.

"How are you, Rors?" Liam asked quietly, taking a seat between her and Sam.

Aurora offered a small smile and reluctantly lifted her head. "Hey," she said, choosing to ignore the pissy look Sam was aiming at Liam for squeezing into his personal space. She knew Marcus and Sam, who didn't like the idea of her dating in the first place, were exceptionally annoyed that she was giving Liam a second chance. But they were overprotective gits and she wasn't about to let Sam's jackassery get her down when she was already having such a rough day.

"I wanted to let you know I'm so sorry about your mum," Liam told her seriously. "If there's anything I can do…"

"Thanks," she told him with a heavy sigh.

"We could go take a walk around the grounds…maybe it would clear your mind a little?" he offered.

Aurora considered. While she was feeling mopey and lazy enough to have spent all of breakfast with her head on the table, it would also be nice to get away from all the stares. She looked uncertainly toward Marcus, but he shot her a reassuring smile, not seeming offended in the least by the idea of her leaving with Liam. Or at least doing a damn good job of hiding it.

"Okay," she said, turning back to Liam. She let him pull her up then ducked to kiss Marcus's cheek before heading out of the Great Hall with Liam.

They slowly walked outside, Aurora shivering slightly despite it being an unusually warm morning. Liam wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against the boy as they walked toward the lake.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

She gnawed at her lip. "Scared," she answered truthfully.

Liam tightened his grip around her. "She'll be okay," he said. "The Minister of Magic gets the best Healers available. She'll be okay," he repeated.

Aurora nodded slowly.

They walked in silence a while longer until they'd circled the lake and were near the entrance once more. "Thanks for making me feel better," Aurora whispered as they paused outside the door.

Liam smiled down at her. "Anything for my girl," he whispered back, kissing her lightly.

He made to pull away but Aurora put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips more firmly to his. If she needed a distraction, there was no better form than this…

* * *

Aiden sat silently as the Great Hall buzzed around him, unable to make himself a thing after hearing the news about his aunt. He halfheartedly shoved at the scrambled eggs on his plate with a fork.

"Hey, that's my thing," Stella said gently, breaking into his thoughts. He glanced up at her in surprise to see her smiling softly. She cocked her head to the side. "You're the one who tells me not to be so stupid and to eat something," Stella said by way of explanation, but her tender tone was of teasing concern, not mockery.

Aiden felt a lopsided grin creep onto his face despite his mood. He couldn't help it; Stella just had that effect on him. He forced down a mouthful of eggs while she looked on approvingly. "Better?"

Stella grinned, nodding. "Much," she said smugly.

Aiden laughed, continuing to gaze sidelong at the girl as she turned back to her own breakfast. He was still affectionately studying her when he heard a whisper in his ear from the other side that nearly made him jump.

"Prefects' bathroom tonight?" Laurel said seductively, her lips brushing his earlobe.

Aiden managed not to roll his eyes and instead turned to face the girl, fighting the urge to sneer at her. Maybe he had a point to prove to James and himself, but this entire morning was not putting him in any sort of mood to put in quality time with Laurel. "Um…we'll see," Aiden said uncertainly. "Probably," he added quickly, seeing her eyes narrow in suspicion, and feeling his insides clench. "I'll find you after dinner, I've got to finish something before class," he added, standing abruptly to get out of there as fast as possible. He ducked to kiss her cheek before making his rapid escape. As he strode away, Aiden chanced a look back at Stella, who was already staring right at him, a knowing glimmer in her eye and a snigger on her lips. He made a face at her, trying to ignore the way her responding grin made his heart speed up, then turned back around to make his way out of the Great Hall.

Once alone in the corridor, Aiden felt the weight of the morning's news hit him once more and he sighed heavily. He was aimlessly wandering when he saw his cousin walking slowly in from the grounds with Owens. He watched as she waved him off, clearly insisting she could be trusted to be by herself, and Owens reluctantly agreed and kissed her goodbye. Not fully aware of what he was doing, Aiden began striding rapidly toward her. He was nearly in front of her when Aurora finally noticed him in surprise, and before she could say anything he had wrapped her in a fierce hug.

"Aid—" she started, sounding both choked and alarmed, but then silenced. Within moments, she had crumpled in his arms and was crying softly.

Aiden didn't know where this sudden affection for his cousin had come from, but he assumed it was something to do with the other day in Hogsmeade, when he'd seen her hurting just like his Stella.

Footsteps approached and Aiden heard someone exclaim, "Aurora!"

He and Aurora both looked up to see none other than Emma Weasley hurrying toward them, alternately looking concerned for Aurora then shooting threatening and suspicious expressions Aiden's way.

Aiden released his cousin and Aurora, smiling ruefully toward her tears, walked in Emma's direction. "Em," she breathed softly and Emma immediately threw her arms around Aurora protectively.

Aiden looked on dumbly at the pair and Emma stared right back at him with a hard, unreadable look. But unlike her usual look of malice, this one suggested she was trying to get a read on Aiden. It felt like he stood there for minutes, eyes locked on Emmy's, and maybe he did. When he finally snapped to his senses, Aiden turned around and began walking back toward the Great Hall to head to class with the departing Slytherins. But he could feel Emma Weasley's probing brown eyes boring into the back of his head.

* * *

"She's stopped her struggling! Quick, everyone!" Holloway barked while Draco looked on in disbelieving horror. There was such sudden chaos in the room that no one seemed to remember he was still present. They'd just allowed Draco to come see Hermione when she'd abruptly crashed. And painful as it was for Draco to watch, he couldn't make himself leave or look away.

"We're losing her!" a nurse shouted. "She's not moving!"

"What if it's just another part of her dream?" another Healer put in. "Her breathing rate seems regular, if a bit low," he added.

"No," another Healer said, shaking her head. "Heart rate's going down— we've got to get it back up!"

The Healers all got down to work, trying various spells to get the Minister's heart rate up.

"I'm going to do the Reambulate Charm," the fourth Healer told them, pushing up her sleeves.

"Go ahead," Holloway told her.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Elinor Zabini strode in, wearing her crisp lime-green medical robes like all the other Healers.

"Elli!" the nurse exclaimed. "Just in time; she's going through a stage of stillness…we might be losing her…"

Elinor whipped out her wand and muttered a quick spell to tie back Hermione's hair so she could massage her temples.

"Come on, Hermione," she urged, performing wandless magic as she muttered a quick spell, fingers still on the Minister's temples.

Draco watched, transfixed, and every fiber of his being praying for Hermione to be alright.

Hermione jolted slightly, and all the Healers froze to watch what Elinor was doing.

"Come on, Hermione," Elinor said again, closing her eyes and taking one hand off of Hermione's head to grab her wand. She opened her eyes again, wand poised over the Minister. "Have you tried the Reambulate Charm?" she asked, looking at the Healers.

A Healer nodded. "No dice," she added, shaking her head.

"How about _Overrtus_?"

"Not yet," Holloway said. "I was going to try the Jetterra Spell."

Elinor nodded. "_Overrtus_!" she exclaimed, flicking her wand.

Hermione jerked abruptly and her features contorted themselves into a frown, eyes still closed. Her shoulders tensed and she suddenly cried out.

"Heart rate's normalizing," another Healer reported. "Breathing is normal; temperature is high."

Elinor bent over Hermione again. "_Tempus Stabilirus_," she muttered. "How's her temp now?"

"Still above normal," the Healer told her. "It's rising…"

Hermione shuddered and a sweat broke out on her forehead, her pale cheeks flushed.

"_Descendus Tempus!_" Donovan Holloway boomed, pointing his wand to the artery on Hermione's neck.

"She's stabilizing," a Healer announced, relief evident in his voice. "All tests are showing regular readings."

Draco exhaled shakily as he watched Elinor continue to whisper charms over his wife.

Holloway came up to him. "Looks like she's back in her sleep, but she's stabilizing," he informed him. "I guess you have Elli Zabini to thank for that," he added, with a nod to Elinor, who looked up and nodded back in acknowledgment.

Draco looked over as well; Elinor smiled at him before turning back to Hermione.

He watched as his wife twitched again, a heart-wrenching sound of distress erupting from her throat. _Come on, Hermione_, he prayed. _Pull through this_…

* * *

Please review! xo gryffindora


	8. The Women Have All Gone Mental

Chapter Eight:

* * *

Two weeks had passed. Two weeks of Aurora numbly sitting through classes, doing her homework, and going to Quidditch practice, all the while her thoughts never straying from her mother's condition. There was the vaguest amount of comfort to be drawn from the fact that her mum was stable and had been so for most of her stay in the hospital. But as the days dragged on, Aurora had gleaned from her father's terse letters and Dumbledore's updates that a grim, unspoken new worry had arisen—would she ever wake?

At present, Aurora found herself at her usual spot at the Gryffindor table between Marcus and Sam, sulking and unwilling to eat. Across the table, Zoey was eyeing her critically, but Aurora pretended not to notice. Emma was less easily ignored; every few minutes she launched another heap of food onto Aurora's plate, cheerfully saying, "Well maybe this will be more enticing, eh?" while she earned dark looks from her brother.

"Leave her alone," Marcus said warningly for the third time that morning as some mashed potatoes came flying onto Aurora's lunch. Emma fixed a scathing look on him.

"Can't you see she's wasting away?" Emma hissed angrily, apparently believing Aurora to be deaf as well as depressed.

"_Can't you see she's miserable_?" Marcus snapped back in a harsh whisper.

Aurora shut her eyes tiredly. She couldn't take much more of this.

"Look what you've done!" she heard Emma exclaim exasperatedly.

That was really it. Maybe her friends were trying to help, but nothing seemed to be making Aurora feel better. She looked up, avoiding the concerned gazes of her friends and picking through the faces in front of her before finally landing on the one person she thought might be able to make her feel the slightest bit better.

No, it wasn't Liam, who since her mother's attack had been such a sweetheart, when they weren't even an official couple.

No, unfortunately, her idiot brain seemed to have decided comfort could only come from James fucking Potter.

And as if he could hear her thoughts, or maybe just sense her gaze across the room, James looked straight up at her. Around him, his twin and Aiden were cackling; he'd apparently just said something very funny. But James immediately stood up and briskly nodded once. Aurora watched with disbelief as he muttered something to Aiden and walked quickly from the room.

For her. Walked out of lunch with his friends for _her._

No need to point out that they hadn't spoken since their brief armistice after her mother was first attacked and that for the past two weeks his silence had made it clear couldn't care less whether Aurora was alright or not.

Marcus and Emma were still bickering under their breath, clearly hoping not to attract Aurora's attention, and they both shut up abruptly when she turned to them.

"I'm going to get some fresh air," she said, rising from her spot.

"_Rora_," Emma said urgently. "You're going to bloody pass out on me."

Aurora shot her a wry half-smile and picked up a pear, holding it up to show Emma. "I'll be fine," she said as she picked up her bag and set off, feeling the gazes of her friends burning into her back.

* * *

Zoey shook her head as she watched Aurora walk out of the Great Hall, head hung a little to the side and looking weary.

"Poor thing," she said, turning back to the others.

Marcus nodded solemnly, holding her gaze for a long moment even as Emma started chastising him. Zoey felt her heart rate speed up.

"Honestly, Marcus," she ranted, looking as wild as ever, "I know you're protective over her but you're being fucking stupid." She stuck out an accusing finger at him. "Girl hasn't eaten a proper meal in two weeks and looks about ready to keel over, and all you can say is she's _sad_. If that were me you'd be shoveling donuts in my mouth."

Marcus looked away from Zoey, a stubborn expression appearing on his features as he fixed his gaze on his sister. "Maybe that's because you're a total animal," he said dryly. "Ror's more sensitive."

While Emma huffed resentfully, Zoey couldn't suppress the tiniest twinge in her stomach at those words. Marcus was so protective of those two that Zoey couldn't help but wonder where she landed on the spectrum. He instinctively took care of Emma and Aurora and knew the differences in their needs…would he do the same for her? Did he know that instead of force-feeding, Zoey's version of comfort required someone to curl up with her and a mountain of junk food?

Zoey shook her head again firmly. She obviously wasn't envious of Aurora and her situation in the least, but she couldn't keep herself from imagining how Marcus would have reacted if it had been her mother who was attacked. How serious was he about her anyway? A few weeks of hanging out certainly did not a relationship make. Maybe Zoey should bring that up with him sometime. Sometime when he wasn't so busy worrying about Aurora, that is.

"Good afternoon, students!" came Dumbledore's voice above the din, dragging Zoey from her thoughts. Everyone quieted immediately, surely anticipating another announcement on par with his last—about Aurora's mother.

"I've a most exciting announcement," he continued jovially, and an audible breath of relief came from the crowd. "This evening, a transfer student will be joining our ranks. She is a sixth year and I hope you all will help her feel welcome."

He carried on a bit longer although everyone had already begun twittering over the news. Beside Zoey, the Gryffindors had definitely perked up, particularly the males.

She raised an eyebrow at Emma, who had simultaneously turned to roll her eyes at Zoey. The pair broke into giggles immediately.

"Fresh meat and they all go gaga," Emma snorted between laughs.

"Seriously!" Zoey exclaimed, listening as Sam and Marcus joined in a conversation with some other Gryffindor boys who were trying to predict the new girl's future house, wondering about her reasons for transferring, and discussing her assumed good looks based on absolutely zero information from Dumbledore. Zoey rolled her eyes fondly and returned to Emma.

"Bet she's super foxy," Emma said in an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper. "Another blonde babe for Ravenclaw!"

Zoey giggled again, missing this kind of banter with Emma. The two had been close for a long time, but since her quasi-relationship with Marcus had begun, Zoey was finding it increasingly difficult to act normally around the girl and pretend she like hadn't seen her brother naked multiple times. "I bet she's a tough bitch Slytherin," Zoey exclaimed. "Broody Princess Potter wannabe, _totally_ hot," she finished laughingly. In fact, how anyone found Stella Potter's brat routine attractive continued to be a great mystery to her.

"Hey now," Sam interjected, catching on to their mockery. "You two are too beautiful and accomplished to sound so threatened by this hypothetical babe," he said with an impish grin.

"Threatened? _Please_," Emma snapped with predictable temper. "And I suppose you're all hoping she's a dateable Gryffindor as charming as _us_," she finished with a mischievous smile, knocking elbows with Zoey. "You should be so lucky," she added loftily.

At that, Zoey and the others burst into laughter. Marcus caught her eye through the din and shot her the most imperceptible of winks.

Zoey felt her insides fizzle. Merlin, she liked him.

* * *

It was a tough choice, James had to admit, deciding who to bang next and who to take to the Halloween Dance coming up (The same girl? Two girls? Could he possibly fit in a third somewhere?), but it was the sort of predicament he was thrilled to be in the thick of. He'd gotten a bit unsettled when McLaggen and Holloway had been disappointments that barely kept his attention, but James just seemed to be brimming with options at the moment.

First he had Peña, the little Ravenclaw sweetheart. She had kept him quite delightfully distracted in Potions for the past couple weeks and showed few signs of being a total clinger. On the other hand, she was your basic Ravenclaw clone and didn't add much in terms of actual conversation besides not being a horrendous bitch.

But this afternoon, he had found Adalind Chen flitting in and out of his lunchtime conversation with Stella and Aiden in the most alluring way. She had this sexy, super short pixie haircut that made her seem wildly more mature than the rest of the girls in school when she was in fact only in her fifth year. But for all her sexiness, she was still kind of aloof. And James wasn't really about feeling like he had to impress his date. After all, that wasn't how it had gone for his entire Hogwarts experience and he wasn't about to start now for some fifteen year old who thought she was hot shit.

And James really couldn't pretend Elin Jansson's attempts to attract him weren't working, much as he tried to avoid dating Gryffindors. She'd spent the last few Divination classes doing her best to arouse his interest, and what could he say? His interest was most certainly aroused. The girl was an absolute knockout, in that über-blonde Scandinavian sort of way. Rumor was she'd been scouted to model a half-dozen times but kept refusing because she wanted to finish school first. Total bitch, of course.

"Where are you?" a low, enticing voice came, pulling James from his thoughts. Addie Chen shot him a sexy half-smile, tilting her head.

James couldn't help his trademark smirk from appearing on his lips. She was practically irresistible. "Thinking about you," he murmured seductively, wincing inwardly at the cheesy line. He clearly could do better than that.

Addie smiled smugly and stood to leave, not seeming to notice how pathetic the line was. "Then I guess I'll leave you to it," she quipped and set off. Girls just loved to try the hard-to-get play with him, but he knew better. Addie was all his, if he wanted.

A moment later, Aiden and Stella burst into howling laughter.

"'Thinking about you'?" Stella cackled. "Merlin, James, could you be more of a sleazeball?"

Aiden too was struggling to contain his sniggers. "Gotta hand it to you mate," he managed haltingly through his laughs. "Real classy shit, there."

James rolled his eyes while they continued to make fun of him. Who the fuck cared? James Potter was back, baby. He was _so_ back. Three girls so enticing he couldn't decide who to nail first and who to save for the dance? This was his fucking jam.

And then for some reason, sobering, he looked up and found Aurora staring at him, looking entirely lost.

Of course. Fuck.

James stalled for the briefest of moments and then, not stopping to think, stood up to meet her. Muttering a quick goodbye to Aiden and Stella (who snickered loudly, apparently presuming he was following Addie out), James strode out the door, feeling almost dizzy with emotion. So much for fucking "back"; apparently he was as much a bloody pansy as ever.

James saw more splotches of color in front of his eyes and he stopped by the staircase to take a few calming breathes. Then, amid the jumbled colors and outlines, Aurora appeared.

She paused a moment outside the door of the Great Hall to stare at him, and James just stared back as his vision miraculously cleared and the faintness left him.

And then for some reason, still a ghostly look upon her face, she purposefully strode forward, slid her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

* * *

Aurora really wasn't sure what she was doing. In fact, she had no fucking idea what had possibly possessed her to do such a thing, yet here she was, kissing James Potter. And pretty seriously, she might add.

Damn, all those girls sure weren't making it up when they lamented about James being the best they'd ever had. If his snogging skills were any indication, the kid had to be amazing in bed.

Aurora felt a slight, involuntary shiver run through her at the very notion of having sex with James Potter, and she backed away just the slightest bit. But James, his hand moving from her waist to the side of her face, gently pulled her near once more.

Bloody hell.

Maybe Emma had been right about the fainting thing. She felt so lightheaded and weak in the knees that she thought she might crumple at any moment. But she had a strong suspicion her poor eating habits weren't the only reason for her wooziness.

And Merlin it was unfair how much she was enjoying this. Even as a steady questioning stream of doubt ran through her thoughts, demanding to know why on Earth she was making out with James Potter, she felt a calm wash over her that she hadn't felt in weeks. How was he fucking doing that?

A loud creak sounded as the large door to the Great Hall was pushed open, and the two sprung apart immediately to see, of all people, Albus Dumbledore standing there. He walked straight toward them, and though Aurora felt her cheeks must be on fire and she saw the guilty expression upon James's face, Dumbledore fixed them with a harmless, ordinary smile. "Miss Malfoy, a word in my office?" he asked, motioning down the hallway.

Gulping and sobering immediately, Aurora nodded quickly. She felt her insides chill. Had something happened with her mother? All while she had had the nerve to be snogging James bloody Potter? Not daring to look back at the boy, she followed Dumbledore toward his office, wiping furiously at her swollen lips. What did he want to tell her that he couldn't just say in the corridor once James had left? Something awful must have happened.

Aurora slowly climbed the last of the stairs up to Dumbledore's office and with a sigh, reluctantly looked up to face the news. Instead, comprehension finally dawned as to why she had been brought here when she saw a tall man standing in front of Dumbledore's desk, his back to her.

"Dad!" she cried, racing up to him.

Draco turned around, a grin breaking out on his face.

Aurora launched herself at him, a feeling of comfort washing over her in the familiarity of her father's arms. "I missed you so much!" she said, unable to help the tears she felt welling up in her eyes. She clung to Draco, who chuckled lightly as he stroked her hair, the same pale shade as his own blond locks.

"I missed you, too, Ror," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

And just with her father's presence, Aurora could feel her mood lifting. Her dad would make sure everything was alright; she wasn't fighting her own battle anymore. The only thing left to weigh her down was…

"How's Mum?" Aurora croaked, abruptly letting go of her father and turning a searching look on him.

A tired half-smile appeared on Draco's face, which looked far more haggard and weary than Aurora had ever seen it. "That's partly why I'm here," he told her. "The Healers think she could wake up soon."

"How soon?" Aurora asked quickly, hardly daring to believe the good news.

"There's really no way to tell," Draco said, shaking his head. "They've said it could be in the next few days, but it's mostly just guesswork. Her condition's stayed normal but her behavior during her sleep is a little different than usual. And she's started saying intelligible things."

Aurora let out a long, shaky breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Can I see her?" she asked meekly, waiting to be told once again that she wasn't allowed in the Emergency Ward, as Dumbledore had reminded her nearly every day for the past two weeks.

But her father nodded, his smile widening. "That's the other reason I'm here," he said. "Have you got class this afternoon?"

Aurora's face fell. "Yes," she told him grudgingly.

Dumbledore cleared his throat then, the usual twinkle in his eye. "If I am not mistaken, your next class is Divination, is it not, Miss Malfoy?"

Aurora looked up at him quizzically and nodded.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said cheerfully, "I don't think it will be too great of a tragedy for you to go with your father."

Aurora's eyes widened excitedly and she threw her arms around Dumbledore. "Thank you, Professor!" she exclaimed, giddy.

Dumbledore nodded, laughing a little at her reaction. "You may use my fire here to Floo to the hospital," he added to Draco, motioning to his fireplace.

"Thank you, Albus," Draco said, bowing his head a little in appreciation. "Ready, Ror?"

Aurora nodded and the two, after adding a pinch of Floo Powder to the fire, jumped in turn into the flames, each calling, "St. Mungo's!"

* * *

"What do we need more stupid sixth year girls at this school for anyway," Stella harrumphed beside Aiden as the pair made their way out of the Great Hall and toward Divination with the rest of the Slytherins. "Like you and James haven't got enough bimbos to choose from?"

A wry half-grin worked its way onto Aiden's lips despite himself. There was really something so adorable about her anger that he often had to resist the urge to display any resulting affection he felt—she'd never let him hear the end of it if he so much as gazed at her the wrong way. "That's absolutely the reason why, Spots," Aiden instead responded in a deadpan. "Slipped Dumbledore some gold and all."

Stella shoved him rudely. "I don't know why you two take such pride in your promiscuity," she said sniffily. "Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll be this mega-babe that whips you into shape and teaches you how to treat a girlfriend," she went on with the excited, guilty grin she wore whenever she knew she was pushing buttons and about to get in trouble, but didn't care one bit. "Or at least be some sort of proper girl that deserves you. Then maybe you'll actually give a shit."

Aiden knew he was supposed to laugh and mess up her hair and make some snide comment about being happy as pie with his current love life, but all he could muster was a half-hearted chuckle. He'd already found that girl, unfortunately, and damn that Emma Weasley for being her.

Stella gave him a strange look. "Everything alright, Aid?" she asked, brow furrowing. "I didn't mean to—" she started uncertainly, then shrugged her shoulders instead of finishing, clearly unsure of what she was supposed to be apologizing for.

Aiden couldn't help but smile at her. He shook his head firmly. "No, nothing's wrong, Stell," he told her, laughing a little awkwardly and trying to push Emma from his thoughts. "Sorry," he added.

She looked at him suspiciously then shrugged. By that time they were nearing class, and Aiden and Stella plodded up the remaining stairs and into Professor Trelawney's classroom. But when they got there, in addition to the Slytherin and Gryffindor sixth years, Professor Vector was standing at the front of the class with Professor Trelawney, looking rather pained. The two slid into the chairs beside James just as Professor Vector raised her hands to silence everyone.

"Sixth years," she began apologetically, "I'm afraid I'll be interrupting your class this afternoon with the intrusion of my fifth years. You see I've had an unexpected emergency come up and well, this tower's the only classroom with enough seats to accommodate both classes—"

"I was _ever_ so happy to help out," Trelawney broke in, gushing and radiant, clearly flattered to have been Vector's last resort as a substitute teacher. "Especially when our subjects really do overlap so much…well, Septima, bring them up!"

And it didn't quite click to Aiden, as he sat there the next few minutes listening to Stella ramble on about how horrible this new girl was going to be, until the door opened once more and the aforementioned intruders arrived. Somewhere in the middle of the pack came a distinctive redhead and Aiden felt a sickening lurch of his stomach.

Emma looked up just in time to catch him staring at her, but instead of any form of scowl, she simply turned back to Nina Nadif and continued talking. She'd been acting this way ever since she'd caught him hugging his cousin a couple weeks back, and Aiden really wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Maybe it was some sort of progress, and she didn't think he was a totally emotionless moron? That was being optimistic though; odds were she simply hadn't figured out what to make of him anymore and was feeling things out. Besides, what good would it be if she decided he wasn't so bad anyway? She could bloody fall in love with him and it wouldn't matter—Aiden wasn't allowed to get involved with her.

Well not her specifically, of course. But James hadn't let up with the pressure one bit these past few weeks despite Aiden's gallant efforts to start picking it up with the ladies. Sure, he wasn't telling him to date more, but he'd made it clear that Aiden was finally acting in a manner befitting his status. Whatever the hell that meant. Especially since up until that day, James had been pretty off his game. Maybe he was just keeping his love life strangely quiet, but Aiden couldn't discount the possibility that he was devoting extra time to seeing—or at least thinking about—Aurora. But maybe it was only that James had gotten serious about getting that bet over and done with.

It wasn't until the buzzing around him rose to near uproar that Aiden realized he'd been fully zoned out of what had apparently started out as class time and was now transitioning into chaos.

"_Fifth years_!" Trelawney was shrieking. "Just because you've been given a study hall does _not_ give you permission to—" she tried to call above the din, but those damn fifth years didn't seem to give a fuck as they chattered on. Vector's elective seemed filled with the most vapid of the year, and it was clear they all preferred to gossip than sit through a lecture unintended for them.

Trelawney huffed and puffed a good few minutes longer before collapsing into a poufy armchair, looking exhausted. Apparently she'd given up, and apparently Aiden now had a study hall.

"Wonderful," James pronounced, packing away his things and getting up to leave.

Stella was aghast. "Just 'cause she's given up on teaching doesn't mean you can just _leave_," she said, eyes wide. "It's still a study hall."

A distracted half-smile appeared on James's face. "Sometime I forget what a goody-two-shoes you are, Stells," he said affectionately, patting the top of her head in a clear attempt to bother her.

"Stop it," she snapped, glaring at him darkly, but James just walked out. Apparently the head pat had also been an effort to distract her long enough to escape. "Where the bloody hell is _he_ going?" she demanded, whirling back around to look at Aiden.

Aiden shrugged, but the pieces were beginning to fit together. He was ditching a study hall with Elin Jansson, one of his self-proclaimed future hook-ups, and Aiden had just realized that Malfoy wasn't in class like she was supposed to be.

But Aiden didn't point any of this out to Stella.

"Well, if James isn't staying, I'm not either," he said, standing up and putting his things in his bag. _Especially not with Emma—and her brother—sitting two feet away_, he added inwardly.

"Aid!" Stella cried, turning a pout on him. "Don't bloody leave me here by myself!"

Aiden rolled his eyes, laughing a little. "You're welcome to join me, you know, Stells," he pointed out.

She crossed her arms tightly and scowled up at him.

"It's _Divination_, Potter. Not even Malfoy's here," Aiden went on, snickering at her. "I thought she was the goody-goody, not you," he added, taunting her.

Stella's look darkened. "Well, fine," she said snippily. "Go on without me then if that's what you want."

Aiden rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. Clearly she wanted to leave now but as usual, her pride was getting the better of her. It was at times like this when he was struck just how similar she and James were. Instead of fighting back and giving her the satisfaction of annoying him, Aiden ignored her and walked out. Sure, she'd be pissed, but it wasn't like it was going to last.

Sure enough, Aiden had barely made it to the bottom of the tower stairs when he heard quick footsteps chasing after him. A victorious grin creeping onto his face, Aiden turned around and said, "Couldn't stay away, huh?"

But then he stopped dead, because it wasn't Stella behind him. It was Emma Weasley.

"Oh," he said in surprise, feeling his heart start to race. "It's you."

She stared at him for a long moment, expression unreadable, before she spoke. "Why'd you do it?" she asked, sounding impatient, as if he should have already answered her question before she'd asked it. "Was it your dad? Did he make you?"

Aiden stared stupidly at her a few long seconds before he managed to gather his wits. "Excuse me..._what_, Weasley?" he asked, shaking his head a little and squinting at her. "What exactly are you referring to?"

Her jaw tightened and quite suddenly she seemed like she was trying to keep from becoming emotional. "That _hug_," she spat out, with a viciousness that while surely intended for him, was probably also her way of trying to keep her rising feelings in check. "You hugged Aurora."

Aiden had never seen Emma so out of sorts. And all over a stupid hug.

"Uh…" Aiden started uncertainly, looking at her suspiciously, "I felt sorry about what she was going through."

Emma was practically glaring at him by now. "Since _when_?" she demanded, teeth gritting.

Aiden knew he should be sneering and mocking her for daring to attack him like this for no reason, but he couldn't bring himself to do more than shrug helplessly. "She's my cousin and all…" he said, trailing off.

She didn't respond, just stood there staring at him.

"Er…what exactly is the problem, Weasley?" he asked, eyeing her warily.

"The problem," she said tightly, eyes flashing, "is that you aren't supposed to have a heart."

Whatever Aiden had been expecting, it sure wasn't that. He'd figured she was offended he'd dared to pretend he was a loving cousin, that he'd messed with Aurora's head too much. Maybe even that Emma was jealous that Aurora had let him comfort her to begin with. But upset that he cared? Her getting so angry had to mean she'd been thinking about this—about _him_—for a while now. Getting all worked up because she'd felt something for him she didn't want to feel…

"So…" Aiden began awkwardly, "you want me to…?"

"Stop it," she snapped. "Just _stop_." She ran an agitated hand through her hair, yanking at it a little.

Aiden waited for her to go on but she did not, and he was left to ponder if by stop it she meant he should shut up and leave her alone, or if he should stop letting on that he dared have a decent sense of compassion.

"Er, alright, I'll be on my way, then," he said at last, and with one last lingering glance at her downturned expression, spun on his heel and set off. She didn't follow him this time.

* * *

"_Mum_," Aurora exclaimed in a low, horrified voice as she entered Hermione's room. The sight that met her was a sickening one. Her strong, powerful mother looked pale and fragile, and she seemed to be mumbling under her breath. "This is an improvement?" she asked, grabbing her mother's hand while looking back up at her father in alarm.

Draco nodded. "They've stabilized her condition; now we're just waiting for her to wake up."

_If she wakes up_, Aurora added silently, a shiver running down her spine. She could see the same words passing through her father's mind.

They both stood by Hermione's bedside in silence as the minutes passed, Aurora holding on to her mother's hand tightly and willing her to wake up.

"Draco…" Hermione mumbled, her head whipping to one side.

Aurora looked up to her father. "Is this what she's been doing?" she asked anxiously.

Draco nodded and placed a comforting arm around his daughter, squeezing her slightly.

"Rors…?" Hermione murmured, brow furrowing.

Aurora swiped at a tear threatening to escape from her eye. "I'm here, Mum," she whispered, squeezing her hand tighter still. She bit her lip, watching as her mother tensed, a pained look on her face.

And they sat there nearly another two hours until visiting hours ended and they were asked to leave so her mother could rest—a ridiculous concept, but if the Healers thought quiet time alone would help her mother wake up, then Aurora wasn't about to interfere.

As they walked out into the stark white hospital corridor, she kept glancing backward, hoping to hear her mother's voice call her back or to see her eyes flutter open, ending her sleep. But Hermione did not wake.

* * *

"Good evening, students," Dumbledore announced with the usual twinkle in his eye. "I believe I spoke this morning of the new student that would be arriving at Hogwarts tonight."

Marcus looked up at Dumbledore with vague interest, that afternoon's conversation with his friends having piqued some curiosity in him about who this girl might be. He noticed the old school Sorting Hat sat on a stool at the front of the room, not far from where he and Sam had seated themselves for dinner. He was just looking around for Aurora for the thousandth time since she'd mysteriously disappeared at lunch, trying to keep from worrying, when just like that, she appeared at the far end of the room.

She scurried over while Dumbledore continued speaking, clearly embarrassed not to already be in her seat, but for the first time in weeks, she didn't look quite so miserable. She sat across from him, beside Sam, and immediately shoveled a pile of meat and potatoes onto her plate.

Marcus's brows rose.

"And now, students, please join me in welcoming her," Dumbledore finished proudly, pulling Marcus's attention to the new girl's arrival. The large doors to the Great Hall opened and in walked Hagrid, a sage-green cloaked girl trailing behind him. A hood hid her hair, and although she didn't turn her head to examine her new surroundings, the entire room could tell she was very pretty.

Well, they'd been right about that, at least.

"Miss Ryan," Dumbledore greeted her cheerfully. "Thank you, Professor Hagrid," he added to the half-giant.

"My pleasure," Hagrid said, bowing his head slightly. "I'll have yer things taken' to yer dorm, then, soon as you've been sorted," he told the girl.

"Perfect," the girl said in what was undeniably a self-assured American accent, smiling graciously. "Thank you, Professor."

Those who had sat close enough to hear her speak immediately began buzzing to their neighbors. An American! They certainly hadn't predicted _that_.

"Miss Ryan," Dumbledore began, "if you would please take a seat and we shall wait for you to be sorted." Dumbledore picked up the Sorting Hat and motioned to the stool.

With a delicate hand, the girl—Miss Ryan—pulled off her hood to reveal a mane of deep red hair that trailed most of the way down her back. Marcus felt his breath catch in his throat, and immediately averted his eyes, embarrassed. Sure, she was good-looking, but what was he doing, getting so struck by her? He was totally happy to be with Zoey, so it wasn't like this girl was going to become some complication. Well, totally happy except unable to come out in the open about their relationship…and who knew how that might affect his feelings for her. Surely it was more than the secrecy that kept things so exciting?

Marcus shook his head firmly. Why all this was running through his head was beyond him. This dumb girl was not about to enter his life in any substantial way anyway, unless by some cruel twist of fate she ended up in Gryffindor. He frowned to himself for allowing these thoughts to enter his head, and focused his attention instead on the girl who was about to be sorted. Her red hair was not like the famous Weasley orange but more a burgundy shade, and only a dotting of freckles across her nose flawed her pale skin. She had a sharp, yet dainty chin and a piercing hazel-eyed gaze.

What the fuck was he on about? This girl had all the bone structure of a raging bitch.

He instinctively shot a look across the room at the Slytherins to see their reaction to this girl who looked like she could dethrone them with one well-placed withering glance, and his eyes immediately landed on Princess Potter, whose deep scowl was alternating between the new girl and the two boys near herself who were studying the redhead with hard expressions—Potter beside her, and Black just across the table. She obviously wasn't thrilled about adding another pretty girl to the mix, and Marcus felt a strange sort of solidarity for her in that moment. Who was this brat to come foul up the way things were run around this place? Because she didn't look like the sort of person to just sit on the sidelines.

Marcus turned back to see that Miss Ryan had settled herself on the stool and was waiting patiently as Professor Dumbledore placed the Sorting Hat on her head.

Marcus couldn't help but stare as she sat calmly there for what seemed an unnaturally long time. He could see the Sorting Hat mumbling discreetly to her, but no one could hear but the girl.

Her gaze was suddenly traveling along the Gryffindor table, and for a moment her eyes locked with Marcus's. After a moment, Marcus looked uncomfortably away and the girl at last smiled, genuine and sweet. Then she smiled at Dumbledore and turned to face the students just as the Sorting Hat announced its decision.

"Slytherin!"

* * *

"Gross," Sam pronounced, shaking his head and then turning back to his meal. "How'd we end up with another bloody Slytherin? And she looked quite the prize, if you know what I mean."

"Sam," Marcus said, looking almost relieved about the girl being a Slytherin, "you do remember your girlfriend, right? Clem? Ring any bells? Short, blonde, kinda uppity?"

Aurora watched, hiding a smile, as Sam casually flicked his wand to send a mighty gust of wind from it in Marcus's direction that ended up nearly knocking him off his seat. When he reemerged, hair fully blown out around his head, Aurora burst into giggles.

"And look at you, Little Miss Sunshine," Marcus went on, patting unsuccessfully at his hair. "Where you been all afternoon that's put such a smile on your face, eh?"

Aurora felt a shy smile work onto her face. "Dad came and took me to see Mum at St. Mungo's," she said, trying to focus on the best parts of her visit, and not the depressing state her mother had been in. "Healers said she could wake up soon," she added in a further attempt to keep upbeat.

"Ror, that's fantastic," Marcus said, finally being serious. "How'd your mum look?"

Aurora hesitated. "She was talking a little and didn't really seem to be in pain…" she tried. "Well it was actually a little upsetting," she admitted, looking down. But, determined to focus on the positives, she forced a smile and looked back up. "Anyway, it was wonderful to see her and Dad," she went on, feeling the smile take hold for real. She took a great big bite of her potatoes while Marcus looked on approvingly.

"He yell at you about your eating?" he asked slyly, with a pointed look at her huge meal.

Aurora laughed. "He told me I need to take better care of myself but my appetite came back all on its own," she informed him prissily, pretending to be offended.

"Good," Marcus said, laughing as well. "Emmy will be pleased, anyway."

Aurora smiled back as she took another bite of dinner. Sure, things weren't perfect yet, but today had been a huge step in the right direction. Now if only her mother would wake…

And of course there was that one other tiny little thing bugging her.

Ugh. How could she have been so _stupid_?

How could she have snogged James Potter?

* * *

As usual, Stella was glowering.

At no one in particular, but that was only because there were too many people to be angry with.

She sat beside James and, most unfortunately, Theodora Avery, whose little gang had decided to flag this new Miss Ryan girl over to sit with them. So now, because of this unfortunate proximity, the new girl was almost directly across from her, between Aiden and Laurel. Laurel didn't seem extremely pleased with this seating arrangement, but she was doing her best to deal because—as was obvious to the entire female student body—this was a girl you wanted on your side, not playing against you.

But Stella didn't give a fuck. She knew she looked like a petulant child, sitting there fuming with her arms crossed in front of her, but she just couldn't help it. Why oh why had this stupid girl been put in Slytherin? Had it been too much to hope that she be some regular old girl that would have disappeared into the crowd?

She glanced over at Aiden to see he was already watching her, and he broke into a huge grin to see just how upset she was. Stella glared murderously at him.

Clearly just to piss her off, Aiden turned to Miss Ryan. "So," he said with a smooth smile, laying on the charm, "I didn't catch your name."

For all Stella had built her up in her head to be, the girl didn't respond with any particular arrogance or indifference. "I'm Grace," she said, looking right at him with a rather harmless expression. "My friends call me Gem, though."

Stella narrowed her emerald eyes at the girl. With her exceptionally long burgundy mane, dainty features, and sharp eyes, Gem was definitely a stunner, and it worried Stella. She'd been upset enough by the hypothetical of another mean girl in Slytherin to bug her and coo over her brother and Aiden, but in the flesh, this girl was a lot scarier. Still, Stella really couldn't put her finger on what was so intimidating. The closer she looked, the more Grace just seemed to be tired and maybe a little sad. Like it was just an inconvenience that she happened to be so striking and all she wanted to do was escape from the prying eyes of the student body.

And although Stella knew Aiden was just messing around and more so trying to piss Stella off than expressing any interest in Grace, the idea of him falling for her was plausible enough to make Stella nervous. After all, she seemed different than the average Slytherin, and given Aiden's track record, that could only be a good thing. She could probably hold his captivation a lot longer than those bimbos.

_Wait_, Stella stopped herself. _What's it to you? You don't bloody want Aiden, _remember_, Potter? Chances of anything happening between you and Ben may be nil, but that does _not_ mean you have a prayer of getting with Aiden. So save yourself the heartache and don't fall for him. And who the hell says he's going to get with Grace anyway?_

_Er_, she thought, cringing a little bit, _scratch that last bit. He can marry her for all I care_.

Stella shook her head, angry with herself, and tuned back into the conversation around her.

"_So_ Gem, have you got a boyfriend?" Laurel asked, winking and smiling girlishly at the girl, but to Stella's trained eye clearly trying to get Aiden's focus away from her.

Gem hesitated. "We broke it off before I left," she said at last, but clearly there was more to the story.

"Well," Laurel said cheerfully, though she looked slightly put out, "no shortage of beautiful boys at Hogwarts to choose from."

"Absolutely!" Camila chimed in. "There's Tommy and Zane and all of those adorable Ravenclaw seventh-years!" she informed Gem in a vaguely condescending voice that might have been Camila's attempt at sisterly intimacy. It really didn't come naturally to her.

"How many times do I have to bloody tell you, you cow? Tommy's _mine_," Theodora said patiently and pleasantly from her spot across the table, not looking up from her nails.

Camila rolled her eyes theatrically and sighed heavily—her usual response to being corrected. "Right," she said with a pissy look before she abruptly recovered. "Well, if Laurel would figure out it's slutty to be hooking up with two guys regularly and leave Aiden so he's free for the rest of us, we could fix you two up." She turned a charming smile on Aiden.

Stella snorted. Did Camila have any right to call someone else a slut?

But wait, what was this? Hooking up _regularly_? Was Aiden _still_ letting Laurel parade him around as a boyfriend? Stella had thought he was taking a break from girls this semester, and those she'd noticed he'd started seeing a few girls here and there recently…had she somehow missed the fact that he was still very much using Laurel's unwavering admiration to his benefit? Her heart sunk at the thought, but then she scowled fiercely to herself. _Best friends, nothing more!_ she wanted to scream in frustration. Why couldn't her stupid heart understand that falling for Aiden would only bring problems?

Presently, Laurel herself harrumphed in a rather unladylike fashion, but she didn't look in the least offended. "Bitch," she said mildly to Camila, then winking across Gem at Aiden.

Stella saw Aiden clench his jaw and force a halfhearted smirk at Laurel. Stella felt her eyes narrow in irritation, her glower turning deeper still. Why did he tolerate Laurel? If he really didn't like her, surely he could put a stop to it—so did Aiden really not mind her all that much? Was he actually still fooling around with her? That was truly the kind of girl he was attracted to? He'd _never_ want someone like Stella…?

_Bloody Merlin, Potter!_ a voice in her head screeched in frustration. _What the hell is with all this nonsense about liking Aiden? Get a bloody _grip_ on yourself!_

Stella shut her eyes to cool her temper then looked up again to see Gem's face starting to darken similarly.

"So the other houses are to be avoided then?" she said in a chillingly offhanded way, looking over at Camila. There was nothing mean about her tone or expression, yet everyone seemed to freeze and listen in on the conversation. Everyone except James, that is, who was still kind of moping and off in his own world for some reason.

"Well, honey," Laurel said carefully, breaking in to take some of the attention off her best friend, and patting Gem's hand patronizingly. "It's just that Gryffindors are stuck-up, righteous nerds, and Hufflepuffs, well…they're pretty hopeless," she continued on, now with her usual overbearing nature. "Slytherins are above relationships with either of them, although you might find the occasional acceptable Gryffindor." She sniffed, as if to emphasize her point.

Stella glanced at Aiden to see him pursing his lips and cringing just the slightest bit at Laurel's proclamation. What Laurel couldn't see coming the both could envision with perfect clarity.

"I see," Gem said curtly as she yanked her hand away. "And you don't think that's at all arrogant?"

Laurel squirmed slightly. "We're not the arrogant ones," she said finally, looking around for support. She apparently got it in a nodding Camila and a transfixed Aiden, who Laurel couldn't read well enough to tell he was watching the exchange in the way one would watch an impending car accident they could do nothing to stop. "Gryffindors are. We're just loyal to our own kind."

"Own kind?" Gem echoed, mouth opening slightly as she blinked rapidly. "Wow. I thought it might have been a mistake ending up in Slytherin, but now I'm sure." She leaned back, looking at Camila and Laurel warily. "That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. Own kind?" she repeated once more, laughing hollowly. "Just who exactly do you think you are?" She stood up abruptly. "Excuse me."

Camila and Laurel looked as if they'd been slapped. Theodora even looked up from her nails to turn her head and stare at Gem.

"Well, excuse _me_," Camila hissed to Laurel as Gem walked calmly out of the Great Hall.

Stella glanced at Aiden quizzically and he shrugged back, looking baffled. She turned to stare at the girl's retreating back. Gem was nothing like she'd expected— she was assertive and poised, yes, but not for the sake of being a stuck-up bitch. Stella shook her head. Gem was right: she wasn't meant to be a Slytherin. She was a Gryffindor.

* * *

James couldn't help it—he wanted to talk to Aurora. Dammit, he was weak.

He'd watched her arrive in the Great Hall at the start of dinner after being conspicuously absent from class all afternoon, and what was more, she looked _happy_. What had happened after Dumbledore had taken her to his office? Had her mother awoken, was that it? Or did maybe some piece of her happiness come from…having snogged him?

James felt his cheeks heat up uncharacteristically, and horrified to actually be fucking blushing, he abruptly looked down at his untouched meal. Beside him, he could hear some sort of exchange going on with the Slytherins and the new student, but for the life of him, he couldn't make himself care. All he wanted to do was find out where Aurora had been.

What was the fucking matter with him?

He really needed to do something about all these bloody annoying and inappropriate feelings he was having, because James Potter did _not_ get all pathetically smitten. He didn't obsess about girls or wonder how they felt. This was disgusting, and although he kept feebly telling himself it was all in the name of the bet, he was starting to realize otherwise.

Maybe he didn't love the girl or even fancy her, but dammit, he was starting to like her. He was starting to _care_ about her. And that wasn't supposed to bloody happen!

Sure she'd been an excellent and unexpected snog that afternoon, but what had possessed him to be so worried about her missing class and struck by a change in her mood? This was bloody embarrassing, and he had to put a stop to it.

He needed to find another girl, and _fast_.

* * *

Stella turned back to her dinner, pushing around the potatoes until she finally took a bite. But something made her want to jump up and follow Gem, and for some reason Stella didn't quite understand, she actually listened to that instinct. Shooting Aiden a look and jerking her head at the door in explanation, Stella got up and headed for the door. What she could possibly be thinking was beyond Stella's comprehension—wasn't this the girl she'd been complaining about all day long? And whose eventual relationship with Aiden she deemed inevitable?

"Gem!" Stella called out once she'd reached the corridor. She looked around and saw the girl walking down the main hallway, arms folded tightly across her chest. "Gem," she said again, jogging up to the girl.

Gem turned around. "Hi," she said flatly.

"I can show you where the Slytherin dungeons are," Stella offered.

Gem hesitated before nodding. "Thank you."

She led the girl to the dorms in silence; Stella wasn't much of an idle chatterer. But Gem seemed not to mind and looked pretty lost in her own thoughts.

"Here we are," Stella said finally, guiding her into the commons. "Girls dorms are up the stairs on the right," she explained. "I think there's space with some of the seventh years…" Stella's voice trailed off as she examined the list that showed the housing arrangements. "Yes," she said finally, but she was pretty sure Gem wouldn't want to be in a room with Anna McLaggen and her gang—the older year's versions of Camila and Laurel. "Well they're a bit of a pain, honestly," Stella started, trying to let on what sort of girls were in that room without presuming to know Gem well enough to say who she'd like or dislike.

But Stella was right. Gem's brow furrowed. "Not to be rude," she said, lips pursing a little, "but is there a room without such snotty bitches in them? Or is that a _Slytherin_ thing?" She said the last words bitterly, looking unflinchingly at Stella, her mouth twisted into a grimace of disgust.

Stella's first instinct was to be insulted. The girl definitely had guts, to be so blunt about the Slytherins she had met, and to someone who, for all Gem knew, could be one of their closest friends. And although Stella had to agree with Gem to some extent about Camila and her posse, she couldn't help but feel defensive about her house. "It depends on your definition of a snotty bitch," she said coolly. Well at least it looked like her initial suspicions about Gem were at last being confirmed.

But Gem looked right back at her, unfazed. "I didn't mean you, you know," she said calmly. "In fact, I really appreciate you being so nice. It's just that…" Gem's gaze darted across the room and she hesitated, as if trying to choose the correct words.

Stella eyed her closely, arms folded across her chest testily.

Gem's eyes snapped back to Stella's. "…It's just I got enough of that back home," she finished briskly, but it didn't take a Seer to figure out there was more to the story that she was keeping from Stella.

Stella studied her for a moment. "Why did the Hat put you in Slytherin?" she asked softly.

Gem met her gaze quickly, but her face had gone back to the neutral, innocuous look she'd worn in the Great Hall. "I'm sure it had its reasons," she said, shrugging.

Stella nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Let me show you a room."

As she led Gem up to a room of Slytherin bookworms, Stella considered the girl's quick temper and unpredictable reactions as well as her apparent indifference to the popular girls and being nasty for the fun of it. Gem was hiding something, obviously. But perhaps more importantly, Stella thought she might actually—as shocking as it was to consider—_like_ Gem. The idea of finding a female who didn't drive her up a wall or constantly make her feel ugly and uncool seemed dreadfully unlikely, but Stella couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Gem could be her friend.

* * *

Aiden looked around the Slytherin table, feeling trapped with Laurel on one side and some fifth-year girls on the other. James was furiously talking to Addie Chen, who looked rather shocked by his uncharacteristic voracity, and Stella had just followed Gem out.

"Oh, Aiden, don't you think that girl is absolutely horrid?" Camila asked, peering around Laurel.

"Gem?" Aiden asked absently.

"Grace," Camila corrected with a sour look.

Aiden shrugged. "She seemed alright."

Laurel's brown eyes widened indignantly. "Didn't you hear what she said to us, Aiden?" she exclaimed.

"Something about you all being judgmental bitches?" he muttered, pushing his plate away from him.

Laurel's look darkened and she raised her brows coolly. "Oh, good, you were listening," she said sarcastically, then turned away abruptly.

Aiden rolled his eyes. He didn't fucking give a shit about pissing her off. She'd cling to him no matter what he said, anyway. Hadn't she welcomed him with open arms when he'd reluctantly followed James's instructions to get back in the game, even though he'd been a complete jerk to her all year? That was just the kind of relationship they had—on again, off again; no attachments. And it suited him just fine.

Presently, Aiden stood and left without acknowledging any of the girls. As he ambled toward the dungeons, he attempted to distract himself, and focused on deciding who he would ask to the Halloween dance—if he went alone, James would never let him hear the end of it.

_Ines Peña? Nisha Singh? _Laurel_?_ Aiden shook his head to himself. He just couldn't lie to himself: there just wasn't anyone he _wanted_ to take to the dance, apart from the one girl he obviously could not ask. _I suppose I could ask Gem just to get Laurel's knickers in a twist_, he thought wryly.

But there had to be _some_ hot Slytherin or even Ravenclaw he had yet to nail, or that he at least hadn't been with in a while. Melora Worthing, maybe. Or Alana Corner. On second thought, perhaps not; Alana had quite a mouth on her—not much of a vacation from Laurel. On the other hand, Melora was so self-censoring as to be one of the most aloof girls he'd ever encountered.

A thought suddenly came to Aiden. Who would Stella go with? If she was going to go alone, then he would too. After all, James probably wouldn't allow her to go with just anyone, although no doubt countless boys would ask her. Or rather, countless boys would _want_ to ask her, but they were always too afraid to get near the twin sister of James Potter. James would throttle them if they made Stella shed so much as one tear. Although Aiden would have personally thought the reward of having Stella even temporarily would be worth the risk. Even if she was a bratty wiseass ninety percent of the time.

Aiden grinned to himself as he entered the dungeons and plopped himself on a couch. He'd ask Stella who she was going with, and if she had a date, he'd ask someone. If not, they'd both go single. Easy as that.

"Hey," Stella said, flopping beside him, jolting him from his thoughts.

"Hey," he replied. "Just the girl I wanted to see."

Stella cocked her head at him. "Why's that?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Wondered if you had a date to the dance, or if big brother had forbidden you to go with anyone."

Stella rolled her eyes. "All the boys are afraid to ask me," she declared, sounding more than just a little annoyed, and her eyes flashing angrily at the thought. "So I guess I'm going alone." She made a face.

"Good," Aiden said cheerfully. "Then I won't ask anyone and we can each go stag, but together." He shot her his lopsided grin.

Stella exhaled loudly and flashed him a relieved smile. "You'd do that for me?" she asked.

"For an ugly little troll like you? Yeah, right," Aiden sniggered, trying to suppress his smile. "I just don't know who to ask. I figure no date means I can dance with whoever I want, or not dance at all, and not have some girl nagging me."

Stella elbowed him. "Bloody arrogant prat."

Aiden rolled his eyes. "I love you too," he retorted dryly.

Stella's expression seemed to freeze for a moment before she forced a cheerful smile. "So guess what?" she asked brightly, shifting on the couch so she faced him.

"Hmm?" Aiden asked, turning to look at her.

Stella tucked a strand of black hair behind an ear, her emerald eyes wide and shimmering in a way that had Aiden staring during the moment while she finished settling herself in her spot. "Gem wanted a room where she wasn't around anyone like Camila and Laurel," Stella said at last while Aiden shook his head, trying to focus back on what she was saying, instead of on her vivid green eyes. "Called them snotty bitches. Strange, isn't it? It makes me wonder how she ever ended up in Slytherin."

Aiden shrugged, looking away from her to try and get control over himself. "Maybe she's used to being in Camila's spot," he offered. "And doesn't want to play slave to her?"

Stella stared back for a moment, as if running the idea through her mind to see if it made sense, and apparently unaware that she was gazing back at an increasingly uncomfortable Aiden. "Maybe," she said finally, then swiveled around again and sat back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully as people began entering the commons from dinner.

"Can't say I really blame her," Aiden pointed out. "How you live with those hags is beyond me."

Aiden looked over at her and though she looked rather stiff and kept her eyes trained stubbornly upward, she seemed to be flushing a bit. He raised an eyebrow at her curiously, but shrugging decided not to bother trying to figure out what was going through that girl's head. Finally, he stood up and offered a hand to her. "I'm going to go finish up some homework," he said as he pulled her into a standing position. "Want to come?"

Stella shook her head. "Merlin, no. I'll do it tomorrow," she said, sticking out her tongue. Then she looked at him hard. "You seem to have adopted Malfoy's favorite pastime as your own this year," she said, eyes burning into his now, although her expression was the skilled combination of challenging and icy that only a Potter could pull off.

When Aiden didn't answer right away, she said, "Is that the new strategy to beat her out for top of the class, or something?"

Just when Aiden was sure she'd figured out about his stupid infatuation with Weasley and was pulling an interfering James move on him, she broke into a slow grin. "Hope you best her. Merlin, I'd love to see her face."

Still, her smile didn't reach her quite reach her eyes, and they were instead glinting with some emotion that Aiden just couldn't read.

"Er…you alright? Stell?"

Stella's grin transformed into her familiar cheeky one, the genuine one she rarely showed anyone. "Just ducky," she teased, and Aiden had to wonder if he'd just imagined the last 30 seconds of tension. "Go on, nerd. Go study."

Aiden nodded and, after grabbing some of his books from the table, headed out of the Slytherin dorms, utterly confused, and pulse racing.

* * *

Grace Marie Ryan sat cross-legged in the center of her new four-poster bed, staring unseeingly at the deep green curtains surrounding her. She wiped her eyes, which were filling up with tears once again.

"Stop it, you baby," she muttered angrily to herself, burying her face in her hands.

She sniffled loudly, grateful that her new roommates, who she'd hardly met, were not in the room. They had left a bit ago, after she had introduced herself to them. Gem couldn't tell if the girls actually liked her or not; they seemed to be rather shocked, though, that she had chosen to room with them. Gem sighed as she lifted her head up, rubbing at an eye.

"I never should have chosen Slytherin, Mom," she whispered aloud, as if her mother were in the room with her as she dwelled on the Sorting Hat's words. Because Gem had almost been a Gryffindor, but the fucking Hat had left it up to her, and she'd chosen the wrong house. She shut her eyes tightly, remembering the scene from a few hours before…

"_Hmmm," the Sorting Hat said, "an American, eh? Well, sure, I could see you in Ravenclaw with a mind like that, still there's bravery in you…but it's loyalty and ambition that are the priorities, are they? Well, perhaps then Slytherin…but what a shame to ignore such morals as you've learned. You do not think Slytherin will put you exactly in the sort of place you just left behind?…I see what you have experienced, Miss Ryan…but you wish for no more uncertainty… And yet I cannot decide…You are a difficult choice, my dear, for your past lifestyle and new emotions brought up from recent events conflict…"_

_Gem swallowed hard as she looked around the room. Bright and boisterous Gryffindors, cool and loyal Slytherins…_

"_I've narrowed it down, but allow me some time…Slytherin or Gryffindor…which would you prefer?"_

_She looked from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor table. The Slytherins looked like the people she'd left behind, the life she'd left behind…though it had been those former friends that had betrayed Gem. But Slytherin was known for its faithfulness and unity—just what she craved. The Gryffindors on the other hand, looked cheerful…but Gem wasn't in the mood to be cheerful._

_So she chose Slytherin…_

"I wanted to be with loyal people I could trust," Gem went on tearfully, trying to rake a hand through her hand and wincing as her fingers ran into several large snarls. "But I don't fit, Mom. It's all wrong." She gnawed down on her lip. "I thought they'd teach me to be powerful, to be commanding and determined. So I could come home…"

Gem dove onto her pillow and soon muffled sobs filled the silence around her.

"But they're just a bunch of superficial snobs. And I'm sure I could've made friends in Gryffindor," she wept miserably. "Not ones as cold and shallow as Slytherins." She curled up into a ball and buried her head in her pillow. "I can't stay at this place, Mom; I can't." She cried for a long time then, choking into her fisted hands that clutched her covers and pressing them to her mouth in a futile attempt to muffle her sobs.

_Oh, Mom_, she thought at last, a tear drizzling out the corner of her eye and into her pillow, _why can't you be here with me?_

* * *

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